


Little Red Riding Lock

by MoonShineD, StraightShooter (MsLadySmith)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Dinner with Grandma, Fairy Tale Retellings, Kidnapping, M/M, Restraints, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-13 08:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16013936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonShineD/pseuds/MoonShineD, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLadySmith/pseuds/StraightShooter
Summary: A role-play chat of a re-telling of the fairy tale Little Red Riding Hood, set in modern times.Our cast of charactersSherlock…………………………StraightShooter(MsLadySmith)John…………………………………MoonshineDMycroft……………………………StraightShooter(MsLadySmith)Mrs. Hudson……………………StraightShooter(MsLadySmith)Jim Moriarty……………………MoonshineDMolly……………………………MoonshineDSeb Moran………………………StraightShooter(MsLadySmith)





	1. Monday Afternoon At The Market

**Sherlock**

Now I know why I always had Mrs. Hudson do my shopping. I hope John appreciates me doing this for him... he always insists on milk in his tea. I am wondering through the aisles, looking for all the world like I'm completely overwhelmed by the assortment of goods.

**Jim**

"Can I help you? You look as terrified as a kitten at a dog show." My persona, Jamie, grew up on a farm in Midwest America.

**Sherlock**

"What?" I turn suddenly to see a smartly-dressed young man standing beside me. I'm momentarily tongue-tied.

**Jim**

I smile widely and hold out my hand. "I'm Jamie. You are?"

**Sherlock**

"Erm, Holmes. Sherlock Holmes." I shake his hand briefly, then look around. "Do you know where they keep milk in this place? It's been years since I've done any shopping..."

**Jim**

"Well aren't you a dozen shades of adorable." My smile widens at his lack of knowledge about something as simple as shopping for milk. "They keep it all in the back. It's there, way of getting you to buy more than you were planning on. C'mon, Moonpie, I'll show you where it is."

**Sherlock**

I quietly follow Jamie to the back of the store, where I presented with a wall of various milk products. I sigh as I stare at it. "What kind of milk should I get for tea?" I ask him quietly.

**Jim**

I shrug. "Don't much matter. Tea is tea. Y'all putting milk in it is just weird. What kinda milk does he like?"

**Sherlock**

I look at him in surprise. "I didn't say who the milk was for..." I say, suspiciously.

**Jim**

"Cool your jets, ace. It's obvious it isn't for you so it has to be for someone else. If it were for a lady, she woulda sent you with a list and specific brands. So that means it has to be for a guy. It's not all the hard to figure out. It's called deduction." Inside I am laughing at his look of... Sherlockiness.

**Sherlock**

"My landlady usually does my shopping, in fact. I'm just doing it today because I know she has her book club today, and I don't want to listen to John complain about us being out of milk when he gets home." I say matter-of-factly. "So, do you think I should get full-fat milk? Or skimmed?"

**Jim**

"You don't know what type he likes but you're getting him milk. Seems a bit hinky. Maybe you could text him. Or..." I wait for him to respond to my prompt.

**Sherlock**

"Oh, he gets annoyed when I bother him with such things during the day." I reach for a small container of the full-fat milk. "I'm sure this will do." I make a show of looking over the labels. "I don't understand why he likes milk in his tea, either, but he insists on it." I shrug.

**Jim**

I grab a Channel Island milk and shake it. "You know, if I wanted to impress someone, or make sure I didn't disappoint them, -I- would get more than one kind. 'Course I know exactly what kind my guy likes."

**Sherlock**

I nod enthusiastically. "Brilliant idea!" I grab small containers of each type and tuck them into the basket. "I can't be wrong this way!" I smile, pleased with myself.

**Jim**

I chuckle at his attempt to balance a bit of all of them. "Wait." I grab a pint of Lactose free and put it on top of the pile in his arms. "Just in case."

**Sherlock**

"So... Jamie... do you frequent this shop often? My landlady has never mentioned you..." Surely such a helpful young man would have caught Mrs. Hudson's eye.

**Jim**

"Nah. I'm just visiting family. Nice to get out once in a while. Told 'em my guy likes real milk and made a run for it." Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock... So obvious.

**Sherlock**

"I see. Well, I appreciate your assistance," I start looking around as thought I'm in search of something else.

**Jim**

"I'm at your service buttercup. What else you need? Maybe I help you find it and you tell me what to do for fun in these parts. Deal?"

**Sherlock**

"Oh, I wouldn't want to take up any more of your time," I shake my head, starting to move away. "I'm sure I can find the other things on my list." Something about this man is just... too friendly... or I'm just very out of practice dealing with people...

**Jim**

"Okiedokie. Best of luck to you." Borrrring. So borrrring. Shopping for milk?? Poor Sherlock. Such a sad ending for what promised to be such an entertaining story. I shake my head softly before an idea pops in my mind.

 **Text to Seb** I got the milk AND an idea.


	2. Wednesday Afternoon at Baker Street

_Wednesday morning…_

**Sherlock**

"John, Mrs. Hudson hasn't brought up biscuits this morning. Can you go down and get them?" I call from my chair in the living room.

**John**

"Busy. Go get them yourself." Brat knows I'm doing dishes which is a bit more important than sitting on a chair waiting for a nice old lady to bring tea and biscuits.

**Sherlock**

I huff. "Really, John..." I mumble as I haul myself up out of my chair. "I ask for one simple thing..." I head down the stairs and knock on 221A. No answer. I knock louder. Still no answer. "Mrs. Hudson!" I bellow.

**John**

I throw the dish towel down and head to the stairs. "She could be sleeping you know."

**Sherlock**

"At this hour? Nonsense." Mrs. Hudson is always up before sunrise - even on nights when her 'book club' runs til the wee hours. I bang on the door one more time. Still no answer. I kneel in front of her door and work the lock with my picks just as John comes downstairs.

**John**

"What are you doing? That is not ok. She is--- dammit." I follow him into the living room of 221 A. "Quite spacious. Warm. Better wallpaper..."

**Sherlock**

I sweep past John and look through the kitchen. "She's not been here at all this morning. The kettle is cold, and breakfast wasn't made." I note, looking wildly around the room.

**John**

"Maybe she slept over at her friend’s house. The one with the married kids." It does seem out of character for her though.

**Sherlock**

"Don't be ridiculous, John," I snap, worry beginning to show. "Check her room. See if the bed's been slept in." I continue rummaging through the kitchen, partly for information, and partly to find the blasted biscuits she's been hiding.

**John**

"I'm sure she's fine. You're just upset she didn't bring you your precious biscuits." There is something wrong about her room but I can't quite place it.

**Sherlock**

"Maybe she's off doing the shopping. It seems she's out of eggs. And milk." I say around my mouthful of biscuits while looking in the refrigerator. "Check and see if her car keys are still in the basket by the door, John.

**John**

"She has a car?" There's no keys but there is something. "Sherlock." I point out a cup of cold 'soother' tea next to the doily Sherlock made her when he was infiltrating a craft group he suspected of killing their husbands. It didn't matter how many times I told him that men in their older nineties would easily have a heart attack when taking knock off Viagra they got online to sleep with their thirty-something mistresses.

**Sherlock**

"Of course she has a car," I walk into the living room. "How else would she... never mind. What did you find?" I follow his gaze and see the cold cup of tea. Picking it up, I sniff it. "She would never let her soothers go to waste like this. Something is terribly wrong..."

**John**

"Ok. You -might- be right. Don't rush off to conclusions yet. Let's think about this calmly, rationally, over a cup of tea." I'm more worry about Sherlock doing something rash than I am Mrs. Hudson being a victim of foul play. I simply can't imagine anyone who would want to hurt her.

**Sherlock**

I roll my eyes. "Tea is not the solution to every problem, John."

**John**

"I'm well aware of that." I flip on her pot and grab the box of normal tea. The door buzzer goes off and I jump. It is much louder in here. No wonder she gets so upset at us when visitors show up unannounced at awful hours.

**Sherlock**

"Mind the kettle, John. I'll answer it." I walk swiftly to the main door.

**Sherlock**

I fling open the door to find Andrew - one of the boys in the homeless network - standing there. "Mr. Holmes, sir," he stammers. "A man gave me this envelope and told me to make sure you got it this morning." I crouch down to be more at eye level with the lad. "Did he tell you what it was about, Andrew?" "No, sir. Only that it was really important. So important he told me he'd give me 10 quid to make sure I got it to you right away." Andrew's eyes sparkled. "I ran all the way here with it." "You did well, lad. Go get yourself something to eat." I hand the boy another 10 quid. He smiles broadly, and skips up the street. "John, we may well have a clue," I holler as I return to Mrs. Hudson's kitchen, where John has poured the tea and is waiting.

**John**

I trade him tea for the envelope. Before he has a chance to say anything, like don't open it, I tear it open.

> _Once upon a time there lived a nice Grandma all alone in the forest. She would always go take goodies to her favorite neighbor. But one day she didn't. Why? Because the Wolf came and took the Grandma back with him to his lair. Her favorite neighbor didn't even notice until there were no more goodies to eat. tsk tsk. Maybe if he had not been paying more attention to the newest resident of the Village he would've noticed that Grandma had been gone for over twenty-four hours already. Plenty of time for the Wolf to find the bestest hiding spot anywhere._

The story seems to stop there. "Sherlock? Do you know of a wolf? Is this some sort of joke? It isn't funny."

**Sherlock**

I sit quietly listening to John as he reads the note, my fingers steepled in front of me as I think. I suddenly notice he's stopped talking, and is looking at me in that adorable, confused manner he has. "Hand me the envelope, please." I put out my hand. "Although you've likely corrupted any evidence there might have been on the note, perhaps I can find something useful..."

As John hands me the envelope, a small piece of red ribbon falls out of it. "Of course!" I nearly knock over the table as I jump up. "Charles Perrault. Red Riding Hood. Come along, John. We need to talk to my brother and see if he has any information on his infernal cameras." I sweep back out of the flat and head upstairs to retrieve my phone.

**John**

"Charles who?" As per normal he has already gone up the stairs and grabbed everything he needs before I am even done putting tea things away.

**Sherlock**

I walk back into Mrs. Hudson's flat. "Charles Perrault, John. Do keep up." I flop onto Mrs. Hudson's sofa. "Author of Red Riding Hood in the 17th century. Hence, the references to Grandma and the Wolf in the note, and the red ribbon in the envelope." I huff. "It seems we are meant to be Red Riding Hood."

**John**

"We? Why we? I think -you- are Red Riding Hood. If anything, I would be the Huntsman or something." I smack his leg with the towel I used to dry my hands. "Get up. Let’s get on with it. I do have a question. Well, I have many questions but one important one for right now."

**Sherlock**

"Start with the simple one, John." I smile at him as I get to my feet.

**John**

"How do you plan on explaining the door when she returns?" I smile when his look goes from perplexed to put upon. "Let’s go."

**Sherlock**

"Oh, don't you think she's used to it by now? She even offered to get me a key once... I prefer the challenge," I huff with a grin as I head back up the stairs. "To begin, I need to talk to my brother."

 **Text to Mycroft** Brother, I need copies of the surveillance video from outside Baker Street. I know, you don't admit to having it, but it's a matter of urgency.

**Mycroft**

I'm startled from my morning paper by the text alert on my phone. I read Sherlock's message, frowning.

 **Text to Sherlock** What matter of urgency?"

**Sherlock**

**Text to Mycroft** Mrs. Hudson has gone missing. We've been left a note which suggests she did not leave of her own free will.

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** Sounds like an NSY problem. Shall I wake Greg for you?

**Sherlock**

**Text to Mycroft** No, just send me the damn video. I will handle this.

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** What time frame?

**Sherlock**

**Text to Mycroft** The past 48 hours. I need to see everyone who entered and exited our front door in that time.

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** Very well. Expect it within the hour

**Sherlock**

**Text to Mycroft** Thank you

**Mycroft**

I forward my brother's request to Anthea and ask her to make haste in getting the video to him. She replies within 20 minutes that the video links have been sent as requested.

**John**

Sherlock paces continuously from the time he finishes talking to his brother until his phone pings. He grabs my computer to read it. "Let me put in the password. It's a hard one this time." It seems in the short time I've been here we have developed a few games of our own. One being that I will come up with a password that he won't be able to crack.

**Sherlock**

"Come now, John. I doubt your password is all that difficult." I try a few easy choices, which predictably fail. "A-ha!" I cry out, lunging at the keyboard once more. I type in "DrJHWatson2004" and grin widely as I am granted access. "You'll have to try harder next time," I wink at him.

**John**

"Whatever." I watch him open the email from Anthea and scroll through the CCTV "Is that us? I look hideous in that green jumper. Why didn't you say anything?" He, of course, is as beautiful as always.

**Sherlock**

"I happen to like that green jumper on you. Brings out your eyes," I say without looking at him. I speed up the footage a bit, watching as John and I leave and enter the flat several times, and Mrs. Hudson's friend Mrs. Turner stops by (presumably to gossip about her 'married ones' and interrogate Mrs. Hudson about John and I). Then I freeze the video. "Who is that?" I point out a sharply dressed man with dark hair. "Too short to be my brother. Did we have any clients yesterday?"

**John**

"No. Don't think so. No one came to our door at least." I look at the guy on the screen. "He does look a bit familiar. Keep playing."

**Sherlock**

I press play again, letting the video proceed at a normal speed. Several minutes after Mrs. Hudson lets him in - curse that woman and her trusting nature - we see the young man leaving again, this time with his arm firmly around Mrs. Hudson's waist, almost as though he is helping her remain upright. "John, what does this look like to you?" I point at the screen.

**John**

Don't just see, observe "Looks like he's holding her to make sure she doesn't fall. She's grabbing his coat to keep from tripping. Her feet are in house slippers. That's all I see. 'Cept the obvious of course. I assumed you didn't need me to point out the wolf tail attached to his jacket." I squint as I look closer. "Hey. That's a Belstaff just like yours. I think you even have that shirt."

**Sherlock**

I freeze the video to look again. "When was the last time Mrs. Hudson left the flat in house slippers, John? I've never known her to do such a thing." I look at the frozen image more closely. "That man has made a remarkable attempt at imitating my appearance - Belstaff, silk shirt, Ferragamo shoes. It's obvious he's trying to throw off anyone who might be observing him."

**John**

I nod in agreement. "It would fool most people." Maybe even me at a quick glance. "So, where did he take her?"

"That, John, is another question for my brother." I take a screenshot of the mystery man and Mrs. Hudson, and send it to Mycroft.

 **Text to Mycroft** We need to find this man with Mrs. Hudson. I doubt they got far on foot.

**Mycroft**

I glance at my phone and look at the picture carefully.

 **Text to Sherlock** I will have Anthea research further.

 **Text to Anthea** Please locate this person's vehicle and path. We need to find them immediately.

**Sherlock**

"Mycroft is on the case. Well, at least what he can do. We'll do the rest."

**John**

"Mycroft being in charge of anything does not make me feel better." Worse will be dealing with a Sherlock tantrum if Mycroft solves this case before him.


	3. Wednesday Afternoon at a House in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the guard Eric is played by StraightShooter (MsLadySmith)

**Jim**

"Hellllllloooo? Anyone home?" I look around and see none of my well paid for guards in the living room of the house I bought just for this occasion. "Olly-olly-oxen-free." I follow voices to the kitchen.

**Eric**

I jump up from the table when I hear to boss come in the door. "Erm... we're in the kitchen, Mr. M," I call out, quickly brushing the biscuit crumbs off my shirt.

**Jim**

I make a small bow to Mrs. Hudson. "Oh. Hello. I'm surprised to see you here. My guards were instructed -quite clearly- to keep you in the room I provided for you." I see Jeff didn't even bother to wipe the crumbs off the table and Eric is staring at the ground. What has she done to my guards?

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh, hello, dear. I've just got tea on, if you want some." I walk over to the cabinet and pull out another cup for him. "Sit. Have some biscuits." I wave to the chair.

**Jim**

Dear? She called me dear?! "Thank you for the offer but no. I don't want biscuits or tea or anything else you're concocting. What have you done to my SOLDIERS?" I'm well aware that I'm yelling but only the guards seem disturbed by this.

**Eric**

"We didn't see any harm, sir. We were hungry, and she offered..."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Now, now, there's no cause for shouting, young man," I scold the well-dressed man. "I was just being friendly..."

**Jim**

"You didn't. You didn't see. Didn't see?!?! What the hell am I paying you for if you don't see?? I don't pay you to think! Get. Out. NOW! Both of you report to Seb. NOW!" I squint at the old woman still calmly holding her tea. Who does she think she is! "You. You. You've ruined them. They're useless now. Only I'm allowed to manipulate the help."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"There, there, dear," I smile at him. "I've had years more experience at that, you know. You'll get better at it."

**Jim**

"I? You! Me! What?!" Actually surprised by this old lady's audacity to question my skills, I end up flopping down into the chair vacated by the soon to be janitor at Sherrinford. "Who. Are. You??"

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Why, I should think since you brought me here, you'd know." I sit across the table from him and smile at him sweetly over the edge of my teacup.  My name is Martha Hudson. Just a little old woman who minds her own business."

**Jim**

"Ha. I don't believe you. Are you a former Agent? MI6? KGB? CIA?" There was nothing in the dossier to make me think she would be much to handle. But now...

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh, dear boy." I giggle. "Nothing so mundane." I shake my head. "Nothing so... above the law."

**Jim**

I stare at her in shock tinged with admiration. "Oh? Do tell." This time I ask with honest curiosity instead of her being a riddle to solve.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"You really should do your research. I own property in central London. What do you think?" I wink.

**Jim**

"I think that you have been seriously underestimated." The things I could learn from her. Oh goodie!! "Let me make you some more tea."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"You're not the first, you know. To underestimate me." I sit back in the chair, watching him as he shuffles around the kitchen. "So, you know my name. What should I be calling you?"

**Jim**

"James Moriarty, Consulting Criminal. I'm sure you've heard of me." I return with the tea and give her my most charming smile.

**Mrs. Hudson**

I look thoughtful for a moment. "No... no, I can't say I have. No matter. What is it you want with me, anyhow? Seems you went to a lot of trouble to spend time in my company."

**Jim**

I sputter while taking a sip of the tea. "Surely Sherlock has spoken about me? I am his arch-nemesis after all."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh, Sherlock rambles on about lots of things. I don't listen half the time."

**Jim**

"I required you to leave Baker St for a while. I need to teach him a lesson about not taking care of his toys. He really needs to pay more attention. Ever since he got with the good DoctorSoldier he hasn't paid much mind to anyone-- I mean anything, else."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Aww, how sweet. You're jealous of John!" I smile over the teacup. "I can understand why, though. That Sherlock is certainly a catch. A very useful boy, too. Did he tell you how we met?"

**Jim**

"I'm not jealous of that stupid goldfish." I mutter to my tea cup how stupid and goldfishy that dumb stupid goldfish it. "He'll get tired and come back to our game. I just need to remind him he can't stop playing just because he has a new toy to play with." I absently grab a biscuit and crumble it. "Let me guess. He saved you from something and now you feel loyal and blah blah blah."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh, heavens no. Well, I suppose that's partly true. My husband was becoming a bother, and well, I would have been bankrupted by a divorce, so I found a better way to take care of the problem."

**Jim**

The table is now covered in tea that I spit out yet still managed to choke on. "You got Sherlock to kill your husband? Damn. You are good."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"He just ensured my dear husband's untimely demise. That American penal system you know... it appears the State of Florida frowns on murder. Shame my husband got caught at it." I sip my tea calmly. "He never was that smart."

**Jim**

"Ha. Oh dear Martha. You are a fun one. There's an opening in my business if you're interested. We could use some old school talent like yours."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh, I'm too old to work for someone else, dearie. Besides," I set down my teacup and look him in the eye. "My residual income takes care of my needs. I have no need of work... I quite enjoy just looking after my boys."

**Jim**

"Yeah. Your boys." I had almost forgotten that this wonderful lady was under Sherlock’s spell. "Tell me, Martha, if I may call you Martha, tell me, do your boys ever take care of you?"

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Of course they do," I comment as I grab a biscuit. "Whatever would I do without funny old Sherlock and his flatmate? Always good to have a doctor in the house at my time of life, after all."

**Jim**

"Being there isn't the same as being there for you. They only realised you were missing an hour ago. I had to send them a note." How dreadful such a smart lady is fooled into thinking Sherlock cares. "He probably only noticed you missing when his daily biscuits didn't magically appear."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh, the boys have been very busy. They've had at least a dozen clients this week!" It's true, they hadn't been down daily as per usual, but since they're busy, I have no complaints. It gave me plenty of time for my book club.

**Jim**

"Busy with clients. That's such a nice way to say that you're not important to them anymore." I used to be important til Sherlock got 'busy' with John.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"I wouldn't say unimportant. Perhaps not foremost in their minds, yes, but not unimportant." I nod. "This seems to bother you far more than me, dearie."

**Jim**

"Why doesn’t it bother you? Do you not care about being tossed aside at the first hint of someone else coming along? I mean I am happy he has someone but why does that someone have to be his everything?! It’s not fair." I slam my fist on the table hard enough to rattle the tea cups.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Now, now," I reach out and pat his fist gently. "It's good to have friends, dear. I have many friends - not just the boys. Why, there's Mrs. Turner down the block - she has married ones, you know - and the girls from the book club (though we really spend more time gossiping than talking about books). I'm sure you have other friends to play with..."

**Jim**

"In have other friends but they're not as fun as Lock. I have my very own goldfish, his name is Seb, you should meet him. I'll have him come over for dinner tonight. Won't that be fun?" I text Seb a note about dinner and to bring the good wine. "And I have Eurus but she's... She's not always there one might say."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"That sounds lovely, Jimmy," Can you imagine? Not only do I have a pair living in the flat upstairs - though they're not married yet - but I have another pair that enjoys my company! Wait til Mrs. Turner hears about that! She'll be so jealous! "Tell me, is Seb your husband? Or are you two just dating?"

**Jim**

"Well... Umm... It's complicated?" It's a bit hard to get married when one of you is legally dead and the other is a wanted felon. "Besides, he wouldn't ever be bothered enough to ask." No matter how many times I basically tell him too.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh, I see. So you two are just not marriage-minded, then. That's all right. I've had plenty of men in my life since dear old Frank paid his debt to society. Not so much marriage-minded myself anymore, you know." I wink at him as I get up from the table, taking the tea cups to the sink. "So, you don't think I'm important to Sherlock and John, do you? Care to make a friendly wager on that?"

**Jim**

"I didn't say I wasn't marriage... Wait wait wait. A wager? What are the rules?"  I clap my hands at the thrill of being surprised by this woman and getting a new game to play. "I love gambles."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Just how much information did you give my boys? And when?"

**Jim**

Hmmm "There's a difference between your 'boys' intelligence. I wrote a wee story. For Sherlock I did everything but write down GPS coordinates. For John..." I turn my hand left and right. "Well, you know." For this game to be fair I need to be honest. Oh, how I love a fair game. "They received their clue about two hours ago. More than enough time to get that smarmy brother of his involved."

**Mrs. Hudson**

I shudder at the mention of Mycroft Holmes. "Nasty man, he is. But useful in his way. Now the rules of the game. You can't do anything to deliberately misdirect the boys, and I can't try to contact them or escape." Like I'd try to escape - this is a very comfortable flat. "With those rules, I think they should be here 2 days from now, if not sooner. What do you think?"

**Jim**

"If Sherlock wasn't so, distracted, I would agree with you. But with Watson constantly pulling on his trouser leg it's going to take longer. So if they are here within 48 hours, you win. When they aren't here by the end of that time, I win. What are the stakes?"

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Well, I suppose a cash wager would be dull?"

**Jim**

"How much cash do you need? I'll have it sent to your account right away. No point in betting for something as mundane as money. No." I get all excited and jump up. "I've got it. When I win you will move in here and me and Seb can be your new boys and you'll love Eurus when you meet her. She's smarter than both of her brothers but a wee bit crazy (don't tell her I told you that). You can even bring Mrs. Turner and her married ones. It will be so lovely. Like a real family."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"I doubt I could get Mrs. Turner to move, but certainly she could visit. And if I win? You and Seb move into 221C."

**Jim**

I put my hands behind my back and scuff the toe of my loafers against the floor tile. "I can't do that. Sherlock would get mad and never speak to me again."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh, don't you worry about that. I'll take care of him." I pat Jimmy's cheek. "He's easy to handle, once you know how. So, about dinner..."

**Jim**

Dear deluded Mrs. Hudson. If she only knew how nasty Locky can be when he doesn't get his way. "What should I have the cook bring? We can go for a walk while we're waiting."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh, surprise me. A walk sounds lovely. I'm so glad I grabbed some of my herbal soothers before we left the house. The old hip will bother me after such an outing - always does." I smile.


	4. Wednesday Evening at Baker Street

**John**

**Text to Mycroft** Do something. Now! JW

**Mycroft**

**Text to John** Research takes time, John. Patience.

**Sherlock**

"John! Has my brother gotten a license plate number yet?"

**John**

**Text to Mycroft** My patience expired when he blew up the tea pot. Tell me you have a plate number by now. It’s been 6 hours since he asked for one. JH

"He’s working on it love. Says Greg will have it soon.”

**Sherlock**

"He probably hailed a cab down the street. Or worse, got on the Tube. We'll never find her." I'm pacing the living room, arms flailing wildly in frustration.

**John**

"Have you figured out who it might be?" According to Mycroft there was a riot of at least fifty exact copies on Mrs. Hudson with the Sherlock look-alike.

 **Text to Greg** Can you give me anything yet? Anything at all?

**Greg**

**Text to John** Sorry mate. Every road has been a dead end.

**John**

**Text to Greg** If we don’t find something soon one of us won’t survive the night.

**Greg**

**Text to John** Which one?

**John**

**Text to Greg** Currently undecided.

**Greg**

**Text to John** Good to know. I will contact you as soon as we get word of anything.

**Sherlock**

I read over the note again. "Useless!" I huff, tossing it onto the coffee table. "Red Riding Hood went to her grandmother's house. She didn't kidnap her grandmother and disappear into London with her!"

**John**

"If you’re Red Riding Hood and Mrs. Hudson is the Grandmother then you must know who the wolf is. They seem to know you very well. Quite well actually if you think about it." Who besides us know of Mrs. Hudson and Sherlocks bond? "Could this have anything to do with how you first met?"  
  
**Text to Mycroft**  Ta for the spare tea pot. Now find something. JW

**Sherlock**

"I'm sure Martha still has enemies - and 'friends,' for that matter - from before. But she's been lying low for so long, I'd be shocked if it was someone she knew." I steeple my hands, deep in thought. "And of course, I have numerous enemies, most of whom are known to you. Many of those are incarcerated at this time, due to my work."

**John**

"Mrs Hudson has enemies? Who would want to hurt that charming old lady? She’s an Angel." Minus the soothers she is about the most honest and good woman I know.

**Sherlock**

I chuckle. "I forget. You haven't known her very long. Have you ever wondered how a widowed pensioner could afford a place like this, John? With her own apartment, as well as two to let out?"

**John**

"You’re having a go at me, aren’t you. That’s not funny." No... ? "I assumed she invested well or maybe inherited this place."

**Sherlock**

"'Inherited' would be somewhat accurate, I suppose. She did know where her husband kept all of the funds from his various enterprises, after all. And once he died, she was able to claim it all." I nod quietly. "While it's possible that the kidnapper was someone she knew, it's more likely, I think, that it is someone who knows me... or possibly us."

**John**

"And how does all that involve you? Was she your dealer? Did you kill her husband? Help her run from the law? What did you do, Sherlock?" I need to ask Greg if he can get his boyfriend’s file on Mrs. Hudson.

**Sherlock**

"No, I never bought anything from her - or her husband. Seems her husband got caught violating the law while the two of them lived in Florida. She hired me to help ensure that justice was properly served, and I did. She was saved the cost of a nasty divorce, and I got a cheap flat."

**John**

"And you’re only now bothering to tell me this?? What do you mean by justice served? It sounds a lot like you killed him for her." I storm into the kitchen to start tea and dinner. "You take a minute to think about it if you need to but you better have a good answer by the time dinner is ready."

**Sherlock**

"Don't be over-dramatic, John. I did no such thing. I simply made sure that the State of Florida had all the information it needed to convict the man. It isn't my fault that they opted for the lethal injection over life imprisonment." I follow him into the kitchen and sit at the table, watching with interest as he prepares dinner for us.

**John**

"Oh. Good. That’s good. Yeah." I blush as I realise I implied he was capable of killing a man for hire. For the greater good? Sure. But not for hire. "Sorry love. Guess I got carried away."

**Sherlock**

"I'm not sure if I'm flattered or horrified that you'd think me capable of such a thing, John." I smile at him. "In any event, I doubt it's an associate of hers. After all, she almost looked drugged when she left the flat. An associate of hers wouldn't need to employ that level of convincing to get her to leave with him." I think for a moment. "Cast your mind back, John... did that man bear a physical resemblance to anyone I've dealt with in the recent past?"

**John**

I close my eyes and try to imagine every detail. "No. He looked an awful lot like you. And maybe... nah. That’s just stupid." I push the toes out of the way (in a hermetically-sealed container) to get to the carrots.

**Sherlock**

"At this point, we have nothing. No idea is stupid, John... who does he remind you of?"

**John**

"I'm not sure of who but I know I've seen him before." NSY? Barts? Who knows.

**Sherlock**

"You've probably seen thousands of people in your lifetime, John... is it someone you saw recently? In the past month? Six months? Year? Let's narrow it down just a tad?"

**John**

"There's no need to get that tone of voice with me. I will either remember or I won't. You doing that," I flap my hand to indicate him, "Sherlock thing doesn't help."

**Sherlock**

"Apologies, John. I'm just a bit worried about her, that's all. Since my brother is being worse than useless at the moment, I'll take any help you have to offer." I look up at him.

**John**

"I'm sorry Lock. We're both a bit on edge." I set down the vegetables for the stirfry so I can go over and hug him to me. "Greg is using everything the Yard has to work with. I'm sure Mycroft is as well. You know Greg won't let him do less than he possible could."

**Sherlock**

I bury my head in his shoulder silently. "I know. I'm sorry about the kettle, by the way. Nerves." I smile against his neck.

**John**

Nerves... Nerves go to muscles. Muscles to bones. Bones and muscles to bodies. Bodies to— "Molly! It was with Molly."

**Sherlock**

I raise my head and look at him carefully. "With Molly? Of course! He's about the same build as that young gay man she brought to the party, claiming he was her date." I let go of John and resume pacing around the kitchen. "What was his name..."

**Sherlock**

Just as John's text alert, so does mine.  John and I look at our phones, and each other, simultaneously.

**Greg**

**Text to John** does the name Jim Moriarty ring any bells?

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** Have you met a James Moriarty?

**John**

"Have you ever heard of a guy named Jim Moriarty?" Sherlock is furiously typing on his phone to the exclusion of all else.

**Sherlock**

**Text to Mycroft** Yes, I have. Get me an address. Now.

I look up at John. “What?”

**John**

**Text to Greg** do you have an address?

**Greg**

**Text to John** working on it.

"Greg says the guy is Jim Moriarty. I think he means the same one you referred to as posher and gayer than Mycroft."

**Sherlock**

"My brother should have an address momentarily. Get your coat, John..." I whirl around and grab my Belstaff. My text alert chirps, and with a glance, I look at John. "Let's go, John."

**John**

“Hold on, love.  It’s late.  I don’t want to go barging into a crime scene in the middle of the night.”

**Sherlock**

I look at the clock.  “Fine, then.  First thing in the morning.” I sit down with a huff and start picking at the meal he’s set in front of me.


	5. Wednesday Evening at a House in the Woods

**Jim**

"Martha, dear, how did you make these? These honeycakes are AH-mayyyyy-zing." There's a bit of an interesting flavor. "What is that unique taste?"

 **Mrs Hudson**   

"Now, dear, I can't go telling you all my secrets, can I?" I wink at him as he leans back lazily on the sofa. "Do you want some more tea?"

**Jim**

"Yes. Please. Your tea is the bestest." My head feels fuzzy. "But don't tell Sebby I said that. Shh."

**Mrs Hudson**

I giggle as I walk into the kitchen and get two cups prepared for us, carrying them back into the living room on a tray with a few biscuits. Jimmy is sitting on the sofa, humming idly with a silly grin on his face. "Drink some tea, dear. Those soothers can be a little strong if you're not used to them, you know."

**Jim**

"Oh. That's what that is. Soooooother. Soothing. Soothe." I am feeling very soothed.

**Mrs Hudson**

I laugh out loud and sit with my cup. "Oh, Jimmy. You need to get out more."

**Jim**

"I'm high. You got me high." I go grab a honey cake and take a deep breath. "I am very ok with that." I pop the dissected treat in my mouth before flopping on the couch next to the arm chair Martha has taken over.

**Mrs Hudson**

"I suppose you are. Funny how things work differently for different people, isn't it?" I smile warmly. "I use my soothers when my hip starts bothering me, you know. Takes the edge off the ache in my old bones," I sip my tea as I watch him carefully. "Good job remembering to bring them when you picked me up, by the way."

**Jim**

I wave my hand in the air in a meh way. "I did do my homework, ya know." I start quoting from the dossier that was put together about her.  


> _Martha Hudson_   
>  _Widowed - former Husband Frank_   
>  _Parents Mr and Mrs Isaac Sissons_   
>  _Fifth child of eight siblings._   
>  _Got average marks throughout school until she quit at age 16._   
>  _Married to Frank Hudson at age 19_   
>  _No kids._   
>  _Owns property._   
>  _Rents space to Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson, Rt Cptn._   
>  _Blah blah blah_   
>  _Takes herbal remedies for medical reasons_

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Very good, but easy information. What do you know about Frank?"

**Jim**

"That you may have had him killed." I blurt it out before I could stop myself. "Oopsie. My bad." I start to laugh at the mental image of dear, sweet, Martha standing over her husband's dead body with a bloody tea pot in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"I did no such thing," I say sternly. "But, I can't say I was heart-broken when Florida decided to put him out of my misery." I lean back in my chair. "The man would bed anything in a skirt, you know. And he had absolutely no idea how to run a business."

**Jim**

I move around so that my head is slightly off the cushion, one leg on the opposite arm rest, the other over the couch. "I'd kill him for you if he was still alive. I would. Honest. And I would do it personally, not just have someone else do it for me." I stretch to reach for a biscuit but it's just out of my reach.

**Mrs. Hudson**

I nudge the tray away from his hand. "I think you've had enough honeycakes, Jimmy. Save some for tomorrow." I set down my cup of tea. "Now you - you seem to have a decent business head on your shoulders. How are things going for you?"

**Jim**

"Meh." I make grabby hands for the cakes, but she doesn't budge. I give my best puppy dog eyes, but she still doesn't budge. "I'm rich, successful, adored, feared. All the things. It's ok." My hand rests on the floor when I let my arm fall limp in my failed attempt at more goodies.  "I'm good at being bad. Bad at being good. Good thing I'm bad." A dramatic sigh escapes me. "I am a very bad person."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Don't be silly. You seem like a nice young man." I reach over and pat his knee, which is dangling over the arm of the sofa. "Frank's businesses did so much better once I took over." I smile at him. "Takes business sense like mine to make things like that profitable."

**Jim**

"But you're good. Good heart. Good soul. Good tea. I'm bad. Bad bad bad. No heart. No soul. No tea." I turn over my empty cup.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Tsk, tsk. No one is all bad," I get up and squeeze onto the sofa next to him, rearranging him so he's sitting upright, and I have an arm around his shoulders. "Even Frank had his good points," I say, thinking back wistfully. I give Jimmy's shoulders a squeeze. "You just need to find something that you're good at."

**Jim**

"I'm good at being bad. And Seb. I'm good at Seb. And bad at Seb. I want my Sebby." I try to dig for my phone but end up rolling off the couch instead.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh!" I jump up to try and help him back to his feet, but he decides to just sit on the floor. "Would like me to call him for you, dear? I don't think you're in a fit state to talk to him right now."

**Jim**

"NoPe."

 **Text to Sebby** here fishy fishy.

**Seb**

Jim's text alert chirps in my pocket, so I pull out my phone to look at it.

 **Text to Jim** What do you need? I'm a little busy.

**Jim**

**Text to Fishy** Too busy for me? Pfft.

"He's cheating on me."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"How can you tell? I could always tell when Frank got a new girl because he was never very careful about lipstick on his collar."

**Seb**

**Text to Jim** Baby, I'm working tonight - at the bar. Wanna come visit?

**Jim**

**Text to Seb** work is boooooring. Can't you just come home?  
  
"It's ok if he's cheating. I encourage it. He says we're 'polyamorous'. I say we are allowed to cheat. Potato / Zucchini."  I pour my empty cup over my mouth sadly. I look at Martha Dear in hope.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh, I'm such a sucker for those puppy dog eyes," I pinch his cheek playfully and take his cup. "Let me get you another cup of tea, then." Setting both cups on the tray, I get up and take it into the kitchen, where I put the kettle back on.

**Seb**

**Text to Jim** Is the old woman giving you trouble? What about Brady and Knowles?

**Jim**

**Text to Sebby** pfft I sent them away. You need to send them away away.  
  
"MissEss HUD Sonnn. Wanna go out? There's a little bar not far from here." I can't drink tea from my laying down position so I sit up and cross my legs beneath me with my back leaning against the sofa.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Me? Go to a bar? At my age? I don't think so, young man," I scold a bit as I return with his cup of tea and set it on the coffee table in front of him. "But if you want to go, you're welcome to. I think I'm going to turn in soon... perhaps a hot bath first."

**Jim**

**Text to Sebby** pfft I sent them away. You need to send them away away.  
  
I shrug my shoulders. "Nah, I don't want to go. It's a room full of mundane boring fishies looking for other fishies to make baby fishies with. Sebby named it The Fish Bowl. Just another reason I love him."

 **Text to the best fishy** NoPe. I'll stay here with Martha. SHE likes me.

**Seb**

**Text to Jim** I'll be home by 10. Jones can cover my shift after that.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"If that's what you want, dear," I shrug. "But I'm going to go take a hot bath and go to bed, if that's all right."

**Jim**

"Wait." I stand up, carefully, and give her a kiss on the cheek before she retires. "I'm not good but I like that you think I'm not bad."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Good night, Jimmy. I'm sure your man will be home soon enough." I smile as I head upstairs to my room.

**Jim**

**Text to Sebby** Jones can take over now. What's the point of owning the place if you can't close it when you want?

**Seb**

I roll my eyes at his response.

 **Text to Jim** Someone's gotta pay for that fancy new house, babe.

**Jim**

**Text to Seb** I told you I will pay for it but nooooooo you want to pay for it all by yourself.

 **Text to Seb** if we were married you would have everything I have so you could buy it AND not have to work.

 **Text to Seb** but keep the uniform

**Seb**

**Text to Jim** OK, ok... Jones finally got here to take over. I'm on my way

 **Text to Jim** You want me to pick up dinner?

 **Text to Jim** You still awake?  
  


* * *

 

_Later that night…_

**Seb**

I walk in the front door quietly. "Babe? You awake?" I call out quietly. Most of the lights are out, so I follow the dim lights to the living room where Jim is softly snoring on the sofa. Shaking my head with a grin, I go over and smooth a hand over his shoulder. "Hey, sleepyhead," I kiss him on the cheek.

**Jim**

"You came back to me. Good fishy." I raise my arms and make grabby hands until he picks me up and carries me to bed.

**Seb**

"Of course, I came back. What, you think I'd find someone I'd rather take care of?" I chuckle, sweeping him up into my arms and taking him down the hall.

**Jim**

"NoPe." I plant a series of kisses on his neck. "I don't want you to work anymore. It's boring. You need to stay here and play with me and Martha."

**Seb**

"She behaving herself? Not giving you too much trouble, is she?" I tuck him into bed gently and curl up beside him.

**Jim**

"Uh uh. She's like a Grandma out of a fairytale. She's smart and manipulative and is the reason I'll have to send our ex-guards far far away." Sleep is returning for me quickly. "I'm gonna keep her. We made a bet."

**Seb**

I look at him, a little worried. "You seem... different. You OK?" I pet his hair. "What sort of bet did you make?"

**Jim**

"The kind I win. She's gonna stay here and we'll all live happy ever after. Or Huddy wins and we move to Baker Street. Daddy's tired now. Go to sleep."

**Seb**

My eyes widen. "Move to Baker Street? Have you been drinking?"

**Jim**

"Noooooo. Maybe a wee bit high but not drunk. 'Sides we won’t lose. I never lose." I snuggle partly on top of him and with my face in his neck. "Stop thinking. It's not your thing."

**Seb**

"You're... high. What, you and the old lady been smoking?"

**Jim**

I crack an eye open to glare at him. "Pfft. I'm not high... I was high. And we didn't smoke it. She makes these ah-may-zing honey cakes. And her tea is sooo good."

**Seb**

I chuckle at him. "And she talked you into a bet... after getting you high. Wonderful." I roll my eyes at him. "It's a good thing you're cute..."

**Jim**

His remark has me rolling my eyes but all warm and fluffy inside. "She maybe got me high but I talked her into it. Now sleep. You've got to meet up with Sherlock's pet tomorrow and I need to plan. And of course I'm cute. Duh. I'm fucking adorable."

**Seb**

I nip his ear playfully. "Yes... yes you are."

**Jim**

"I know."


	6. Pre-Dawn Thursday in Jim's Room

**Jim**

It's 4:02 am when Seb’s snoring wakes me up. No amount of pushing, shaking, or trying to roll him is shutting him up. I'm still enjoying the glow of a good high so I'm more annoyed than angry. This leaves me with three options. One, sleep on the couch. That's a nope. Two, cover his face in duct tape. Also a no since I don't want to train another one. Three, blow job. That always works. He and I know blowjobs lead to sex so I take some time to have a shower and prepare myself. "Seebbbby. Baaaabyyy. Wakey wakey." It's never good to wake a soldier by touching first. A grunt, and lack of chainsaw levels of breathing is enough of a cue to say he's awake enough to touch now. I lift up the covers at the bottom of the bed and crawl inside.

**Seb**

That sing-song voice of Jim's brings me out of deep sleep, and the feeling of him crawling up my legs brings a smile to my lips.

**Jim**

I hum as I brush my lips against the skin on his calves. It's not nearly as fun to go straight to the good part as it is to make him squirm and plead. "You were snoring. Such a naughty thing."

**Seb**

"If this is what I get for being naughty, I'll keep it up," I mumble sleepily.

**Jim**

"Hmm. NoPe. If you had been a good, quiet boy you would already be fucking me by now. Instead I'm going to take my time and make you beg to cum." Helps that his dick is always sweet and clean tasting.

**Seb**

I growl. "If I hadn't been snoring, you'd still be sleeping off your little experiment, not torturing me at 4am..."

**Jim**

I rub my hands up and down his thick thighs. "Torture is it?" I curl my fingers and claw down his thighs just enough that it doesn't cause pain. Well doesn't cause too much pain. "Poor baby. Maybe I should stop and go back to sleep..."

**Seb**

I fling the blankets away so I can look into those dark mischievous eyes of his. "Don't you dare stop," I grumble. The closer he gets to my cock, the more I am anticipating his next move.

**Jim**

I stop moving and squint at him. "Are -you- telling -me- what to do?"

**Seb**

"Yeah... yes I am," I look down at him, a little defiantly.

**Jim**

A hundred thoughts roll past my mind as I contemplate my next move. On one hand his defiance is stimulating. But, more importantly, his impudence will not be tolerated. I get off the bed and head to the toy chest. "Position. Now." My tone leaves no room for argument.

**Seb**

I watch him get up and walk away, a full-body shudder going through me as I quietly get up off the bed, too, dropping to my knees.

**Jim**

I return with a paddle in one hand and a long sash in the other. "Bad boys get punished. Were you a bad boy?"

**Seb**

"Yes, sir," I reply without looking up.

**Jim**

"Did you forget who is in charge? Is having that little job of yours making you think you can tell me what to do?" The questions are posed while I wrap the sash around his eyes and ears. Not enough so he can't see or hear at all but enough to make him have to focus.

**Seb**

"You're in charge, sir," I say quietly, shivering as he wraps the sash across my eyes. The way he wraps it is effective as a blindfold, with the added bonus of muffling the sounds around me, too.

**Jim**

I pat his head. "Good boy. Follow me." I take the end of the sash like a leash and guide him to end of the bed looking in the direction of the head board. Sitting down in front of him I pat my leg for him to lay his head on while I pet him. "You're doing all sorts of adulting things. That's good. You're getting mouthy with me. That's bad. Let's put your mouth to better use." I put my hand behind his neck and guide him to my cock.

**Seb**

I let him pull me forward, parting my lips as his cock brushes against them. I flick my tongue over the head, and try not to smile at his response to it.

**Jim**

I run my fingers over his scalp like a massage until I get to his neck and yank. "Uh uh. No teasing me or you'll get a spanking. You won't sit for a week."

**Seb**

I yelp at the yank of my hair, resisting the urge to growl at him. Obediently, I open my mouth and take him in like he wants. I steady myself a bit by resting my hands on the edge of the bed on either side of him, and bob lower.

**Jim**

"Better." I grab the ends of the sash and twirl my hands so the sash starts getting tighter and I have more control of his movements. By the time my wrists are next to his ears it would be almost impossible for him to hear or see anything. I even control his movements. The only thing I cannot control is his mouth, the suction, or his tongue. I push his head down til the head of my cock reaches the back of my throat. I hold him there til he swallows around me to take even more in. When I let him go he lifts his head up quickly to take in deep breaths of air.

**Seb**

I know how much he likes it when I swallow him that way, but part of me still wants to fight it. When he lets me loose for a second, I pull back quickly, gasping for air. I return to lick along his length - not teasing, per se, just not letting him get his way. A little act of defiance.

**Jim**

I pull his head off me and stand up. I unwrap the sash and reach for the paddle I grabbed earlier. "I tried to be nice. I -wanted- to be nice. But you want to be punished so punish you I shall." I tap his feet with my foot. "Up. Up. Up. On the bed. You know how I want you." As he positions himself I grab a cockring and lube out of the nightstand drawer.

**Seb**

I whine, but do as I'm told without a word or even a glare. _Maybe I_ do _want it..._

**Jim**

I set the paddle next to him and pet his back side when I get behind him. With his head down and arse up I can't see his face but I know well the expression he's wearing. "It's been too long hasn't it. I've been neglectful and will make it up to you. It's a good thing you don't have to sit while tending bar ‘cause you won't be sitting comfortably for a while." I reach a lubed hand between his legs and fasten the cock ring.

**Seb**

I shiver as he moves around me, petting and stroking my bare skin. I bite my lip as he slips the cock ring in place, both anticipating and dreading what's coming next.

**Jim**

"On a scale of one to twenty how naughty were you?"

**Seb**

I consider for a minute. "Ten." I reply - I know I could have been a lot worse. "Maybe twelve."

**Jim**

I lay over the top of him and kiss between his shoulder blades. "14 it is." When I return to kneeling behind him I take a moment to grab his arse and massage it. It's solid muscle, like the rest of him, but the only place he doesn't have very many scars. I've often wondered if he wears every battle he's ever been in. Between the broken bones, nasty scars, and the complete apathy I found him in, he was lucky I took him in and made him my own. I saw his potential and he lived up to it. It's times like this I have to, no I get to, remind him.

**Seb**

My fingers twist into the sheet under my hands. 14... I tremble a little - more anticipation than fear. Jim doesn't scare me. He never has, even when he gets that crazy look in his eye. He knows what I need, and he's happy to provide it. I relax a little as he rubs over my arse, little sounds of pleasure escaping my lips as he does.

**Jim**

While still rubbing one side I smack his arse one the other side. The sound resonates through the quiet house.

**Seb**

The crack of the paddle makes me jump, but I don't move away. "One..." my voice cracks a bit.

**Jim**

I trace my fingers over the white parts left by the holes in the paddle before I switch hands and smack him twice on the other side.

**Seb**

My spine tingles as he distracts me with a gentle touch before the paddle meets my flesh again. My knuckles are already turning white with my grip on the sheets. I consciously let go and flex my fingers, trying not to think about my stinging arse. "Three" I can still manage to keep count, at least.

**Jim**

I switch back to the other side and caress his cheek with the paddle. I wait almost a minute, just when he starts squirming, to pull my hand back and barely tap him. Then I do it again but at full strength. "Such a good fishy. You should see this arse. The bubble butt all red and glowing." A weird thought of a glowing red goldfish crosses my mind. I wonder what I would need to create one.

**Seb**

The cool paddle moving lightly over my stinging arse cheek feels so good, I hardly even notice the light tap. _Not supposed to count that_

I'm starting to whine when he swats me hard. "Four." I shift my knees slightly, trying to get a little bit more comfortable without moving much.

**Jim**

"Reach up and grab the bar." For this very purpose our headboard, and foot, had sturdy bars and places to attach cuffs or chains to. This would give him something to squeeze and make his muscles taut, so he would feel the next blows even more.

**Seb**

Another shiver. It takes me a moment to move, but I reach up and grab hold of the bar. I let my head fall forward in an attempt to relax my upper back - I can already tell this is going to be hard on my shoulders, let alone my arse. I close my eyes and wait.

**Jim**

I tap on his thighs as he adjusts. Last time he was in this position we had ropes and pulleys and whips and chains. It was his anniversary present to me. For a moment I feel nostalgia then I swat the back of his right thigh. I do it with love though. Love and pain go together like fishies and leashes.

**Seb**

I wasn't expecting it when the warmth of the paddle's impact spread across my thigh. My eyes start to water a bit from the sting _I am not crying, dammit!_ I bite down on my lower lip to try and contain the whimpering. "Five." I hiss.

**Jim**

"You're gorgeous like this. All strength and grace." The next smack is across his other upper thigh. Then another right above it where the crease is that separates the thigh from the glutes. "Halfway there." I stretch myself along his back and hold him for a moment. The paddle is pressed against his chest and I listen to his heart beat.

**Seb**

I flinch a little when he shifts behind me to lay across my back. "Seven" I whisper as his arms curl around me, calming me. "I don't mean to misbehave..." I mumble.

**Jim**

I set the paddle down on the bed below him. My hand travels between his legs to feel that he's still hard but not desperate. "I know baby. Sometimes you do. You need to save those times for other people." I stroke him gently as I talk.

**Seb**

I am about to respond to that when his hand wraps around my cock loosely. I can't help it - my hip thrusts again him of its own volition. _I want_ echoes in my head, but all that escapes my lips is an unintelligible purr.

**Jim**

Instead of picking the paddle up I decide to finish the rest bare-handed. Still nestled against him I do three hard whacks against the area where the thigh and groin connect.

**Seb**

I'm not expecting it when he smacks my upper thigh, and I jump back, shoving my arse back against him.

**Jim**

"NoPe. Not tonight Munchkin." I swat his arse playfully and back away. "How many are left?"

**Seb**

I have a moment of panic. I wasn't paying attention! "That's... um... nine?"

**Jim**

"So close. It was 10. I won't add any for being wrong, this time. Next time say you don't know instead of guessing. If I wasn't feeling so generous we would start all over." I grab his neck and forcibly turn his head, so he can see my eyes. "You know how much I hate guesses."

**Seb**

"Sorry..." I look up at him. "I-I'll do better," I say with the slightest of whines in my tone.

**Jim**

"Yes. You will." I stand where he can see me and stroke myself. "Hmm. Maybe, when I'm done taking care of you, I will take care of myself. Just let you watch."

**Seb**

I let my head drop forward again and whimper. "Four more... please?"

**Jim**

I take the sash and paddle off the bed. After tying the sash around the handle of the paddle and my wrist I swing it a few times to test that it's going to hold. "Do you know why I did this? So I can swing it back further to come down on you harder. The next four will make up for the fourteen more you should get.  I want you to count out each one and thank me for them."

**Seb**

My head shoots up to look at him when he says that. "Y-Yes, sir." I reply quietly.

**Jim**

"Yes Sir, -what- Sir?" I bring the paddle down hard on his back side.

**Seb**

I hiss at the sting, my knuckles white as I grip the bar as though my life depends on it. "11... Thank you, sir." I say through gritted teeth.

**Jim**

I whistle and flit about the room randomly picking up this and that until he barely relaxes a smidgen. WHACK

**Seb**

Number 12 lands, and I bury my head in the pillows, trying to keep quiet. The sting of the impact sets my arse on fire, and I can feel it from head to toe. I catch my breath, and steady my voice before responding. "12. Thank you, sir."

**Jim**

"Hmm? What was that? I caaannnnt heeeeaaarrrrr you." WHACK

**Seb**

This time I don't bother steadying my voice. I raise my head up to look over my shoulder at him. "13. Thank you, sir." Almost over... almost done I chant in my head.

**Jim**

WHACK No noise, no warning, no way to be prepared before the last blow came down right on top of the first one.

**Seb**

I let out a cry at the last impact, my last shred of control gone. "14... Thank you, sir," I sob, my whole body trembling at this point.

**Jim**

"Shhhh. Shh. Shh. It's ok. You did so good. That's why you're my favoritest ever." I rub his back side softly. "Be right back." I come back with aloe and water.

**Seb**

I let myself go limp on the bed, my hands slipping stiffly from the bar as I lay face-down in the pillows.

**Jim**

I set the lotion and drink on the nightstand. "Now. Like I said earlier, I want to have sex. I was going to let you fuck me but now I think I'll use you as my very own toy instead. A life size Sebby Doll. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

**Seb**

"Yeah. I think I'd... I mean, I think that would be good." I say in a shaky voice.

**Jim**

"Roll over my pretty fishy." He winces when his sore flesh touches the sheet. There's no thread count that can make that ok.

**Seb**

I roll onto my back with a hiss as the sheets hit my tender arse, feeling more like sandpaper than satin.

**Jim**

After straddling his legs above his knee I pat the red area on his groin left by the smacks. "This is going to hurt so very good." I put my weight down on the hand touching the fresh marks. "Welllll, it's gonna hurt you. I'll be happy and pain free." My smugness is honestly earned because I had the foresight to prep ahead of time.

**Seb**

I close my eyes and purr at the touch of his hand, even when he presses into the handprint he left before. It doesn't sting so much now - more of a dull ache. My cock twitches in anticipation

**Jim**

I reach over for the lube I set down earlier. It's a warming kind that we rarely use because Sebby says he gets irritated from the heat of it. I squirt a generous portion into my palm before I wrap my hand around his gorgeous cock and stroke slowly. The cock ring has done its job well. The lube is slightly diluted by the amount of precum he's leaking.

**Seb**

I exhale with a shudder as his slick hand closes around my neglected dick and starts to move. "Mmmm," I mumble. I can already feel the warmth from the lube, but I don't care - his hand feels divine.

**Jim**

I position myself over him which is when I would normally unbutton the ring but I don't this time.

**Seb**

I look up at him, desperation flashing in my eyes. "Please..."

**Jim**

I smile as I ever so slowly lower myself down a third of the way. "Maybe." I lower most of the way then stop. "Maybe not."

**Seb**

I'm itching to just grab his hips and pull him down, but I know there'd be hell to pay if I did. "Please, Jim..." I growl, curling my fingers into the sheets.

**Jim**

"Oooookayyyy." I nod my permission for him to take off the ring.

**Seb**

Before he has a chance to change his mind, I undo the cock ring with a relieved sigh. I stroke my hands softly over his thighs. "Thank you."

**Jim**

"It's only because you're cute." I bop him on the nose in a playful way then laugh. Without warning I drop the rest of my weight down, making sure to land some of it on his new bruise. The pain on his arse must be deliciously unpleasant at best.

**Seb**

I try to arch my back a little, to take the pressure of his weight off my aching arse, but he forces me back down into the mattress. Still the combination of pleasure and pain sends a shiver through me.

**Jim**

I can feel him pulse each time he flexes. The way we work against each other is a well choreographed dance. His sensitivity and pain is a pleasurable bonus for both of us.

**Seb**

My hands are shaking as I stroke over his thighs, not nearly as gently as before.

**Jim**

He arches when I grab his pecs and dig my finger nails in deep. "Uhhhhg. Just like that." I bounce harder each time I drop down.

**Seb**

"Mmm... yes..." I mumble. The sting of his fingernails against my skin and the ache of my arse as he grinds it into the mattress is the perfect counter-point to the intensity of his beautiful arse. I grip his thighs firmly and thrust up against him just a little more.

**Jim**

The perfect position found I hold my self still. "Fuck me." Having to do the work on his own will be a testiment to his muscular thighs. I stroke myself as I wait for him to start.

**Seb**

A small smile creeps onto my lips. "Thought you'd never ask," I growl. I move my hands to his hips and thrust up hard into him.

**Jim**

Everytime he thrusts up I bare down. I feel myself getting closer to the edge each time my prostate is grazed by his fat cock.

**Seb**

My fingers dig into his hips as I fuck him hard, a fine sheen on sweat on my chest from the effort. The soreness of my arse and the slight burn of the lube have blended beautifully with his body's tight grip on my cock and the sight of the blissed-out look on his face as he strokes himself.

**Jim**

My groans are getting louder. Almost as loud as the head boards bars clanking hard against the wall. Fuck, is he somehow going to break another bed? From the bottom? The thought of all that raw strength and Soldier-y stuff barely contained in a man who let's me, wants me to spank him for being naughty is a pure rush better than any drugs. So close. So close. I just need one more thing but don't know what it is.

**Seb**

I slide one hand from his hip to his inner thigh, scratching lightly along it until my hand covers his, stroking his cock.

**Jim**

"Seb. SebSebSebSebby. I'm so close. Fuck me baby. Louder." Maybe it's his quietness after the yelling from earlier. Ohhhh or the Sir. I like it when he says Sir.

**Seb**

My abs are starting to ache, but I just can't get enough. I thrust up as hard as I can, my hand squeezing and gripping his cock as we stroke it together. "You like this." I say breathlessly, the hand on his hip gently pulling him, rocking him so that I'm pounding his prostate with every thrust. "You're too good to me, sir... too... good," I groan, shaking with the effort of holding back my own pleasure for his.

**Jim**

"I can't heeearrr you. Louder." Pleasepleaseplease.

**Seb**

I growl and look up at him. "Come on my cock, sir. I need it, sir... please..." I'm not going to last much longer, so if my begging is what he needs, he'll get it.

**Jim**

With a loud groan and a squeeze of my balls I cum all over his abs and chest.

**Seb**

The flutter of muscle as he groans out his orgasm sends me over the edge with him, my fingers curling into his hip as I empty myself into him. I'm barely aware of it when he leans down and kisses me lightly.

**Jim**

I carefully pull myself off of him and make my way to the loo. After taking care of myself I return and toss a cold damp flannel at him which hits his head. I laugh at his startled expression. "Was Soldier Boy not ready for a wee bitty washcloth?"

**Seb**

"Mmph," I mumble, careful not to glare at him as I clean up with the cold flannel. "You're lucky you're so damn adorable," I say under my breath.

**Jim**

"Waz dat? Yr nt givin me lpf are you?" I glare at him through the reflection of the bathroom mirror as I brush my teeth.

(What's that? You're not giving me lip, are you?)

**Seb**

"No, sir. Definitely not." I reply just loud enough for him to hear. I stretch out sleepily on the bed and look over at the clock. "Can we get some sleep now, sir?"

**Jim**

I flop down on the bed almost asleep before my head touches the pillow. "Shhhh I'm sleeping."

**Seb**

I laugh and shake my head. I curl up behind him, pulling the blanket up over us both and putting my arm around his waist. I'll be awake in an hour anyway, but at least I can get a little more sleep now.


	7. Thursday Morning Investigations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Ms. Bailey is played by MoonShineD

_Thursday morning…_

**Sherlock**

I hail a cab, and both of us climb in quickly. I give the cabbie the address Mycroft sent me but add "But drop me at St. Bart's first." John looks at me, confused. "I will go talk to Molly - see what else I can find out about her boyfriend. You, go check out this Moriarty's flat."

**John**

"Be careful." He blushes adorable when I give him a kiss on the cheek. "Don't do anything stupid."

**Sherlock**

I huff. "Of course not. I only do highly intelligent things." I grin as I take his hand and give it a squeeze. The cab pulls up to St. Bart's and I jump out quickly, heading toward the morgue.

**John**

I wipe my hand over my face as he exits the cab. This could be a very bad idea.

* * *

**Sherlock**

"Molly! Wonderful to see you today!" I breeze into her office, where she sits at a desk covered with paperwork. "Tell me, how is your boyfriend? Jim, isn't it?"

**Molly**

My coffee spills on the autopsy report I had been working on. "Sherlock. Umm. What?"

**Sherlock**

"You're still seeing Jim, aren't you?"

**Molly**

I look at him confused. "Jim? From last Christmas? No. He was a bit weird for me. Something was just off about him." Didn't help that his boyfriend didn't like me much.

**Sherlock**

"Pity that. You seem to be recovered from that heartbreak, at least." I push a stack of paper to one side and sit on the edge of the desk. "Tell me about him. What was wrong with him?"

**Molly**

"Well. He was always doing puzzles and asking riddles and such. He was too smart if you ask me." And too gay.

**Sherlock**

"He sounds... interesting." A lot like me. "What kind of puzzles did he like?"

**Molly**

"All kinds. Cards. Jigsaws. Mostly these ones he played in his mind. His friend, Seb, understood it a lot better than I did.  He was a big fan of yours. Always asking questions about you."

**Sherlock**

"I'm flattered. So he liked logic puzzles?" I ask gently. Poor Molly ended up as the third wheel in Jim's relationship, it sounds like. "Tell me, did he read? Mention any favorites?" Like fairy tales?

**Molly**

"He loved fairy tales. Said they were the best riddles of all. Whatever that means. He was always going on about how the villain isn't always a villain. Sometimes it's a misunderstood anti-hero. I mean, I could see his point sometimes, but those stories are for kids. You know?" This is quite possible the longest conversation I've had with Sherlock about someone other than Sherlock. Every time he opens his mouth I expect the insult to come out but it's just more talk about Jim. "Anyways, I'm done with him. I've moved on."

**Sherlock**

"And what did you tell him about me?" I look at her quizzically.

**Molly**

"Hmm. Nothing that's not on the blog. A bit ‘bout how you do the see thingy that you do. Oh, he could do it too. He told me about you and John being a couple before anyone else. I don't think he was fond of John. He didn't not like him, but he didn't like him either." Almost like he was jealous of the time Sherlock was going to be spending with John even though they weren't even dating yet. "I can't think of anything else. If you want to know more you'll have to ask him."

**Sherlock**

"I may do that. You wouldn't know where I might find him, would you?" I ask, trying to seem innocent.

**Molly**

I shake my head no. "That was one of those weird things. We only went to my place to, umm, sleep. No idea where he lives. I will send you his number though."

**Sherlock**

"Sleep, yes. That's what you two did so loudly in your flat," I frown. "I'm sure you would have woken his boyfriend if you went to his flat." I lift myself off her desk. "If you could get me that phone number soon, that would be brilliant." I breeze out of her office as suddenly as I arrived.

**Molly**

_Bastard_

**Text to Sherlock** piss off

**Sherlock**

**Text to Molly** So, no phone number?

**Molly**

**Text to Sherlock** Figure it out yourself

I turn off my phone, grab my keys, and head out on a drive through the country side.

* * *

**Sherlock**

I head back out front, hailing a cab and having him take me to the address Mycroft gave me, where I see John just as he is leaving the building. "Well?" I ask excitedly as I jump out of the cab. This time, I remember to toss a few bills at the cabbie before I leave his care.

**John**

"Nothing. Empty. Neighbors didn't see a thing." I feel a tad guilty about using the warrant card I borrowed from Greg to gain entry into the flat. "Pretty dodgy area. Not the kind of place any one ever sees anything."

**Sherlock**

"Does it look recently vacated? Any signs of movers?" I start to push past him to get to the flat.

**John**

"Looks like it wasn't used much at all. Honestly I don't think anyone lives here at all." I follow him up the stairs and bump into him when he suddenly stops in the open doorway. "What is it?" I whisper and pull out my gu--- phone.

**Sherlock**

I stand in the open doorway, scanning the room. "He doesn't live here anymore, at least. Moved out in the last week, it seems." I turn to face John. "Talk to the building manager. See if he left a forwarding address." I walk into the flat, leaving John standing in the hall.

**John**

"Sherlock. I already told you. No one saw anything." As it's clear he is ignoring me I head down the stairs, again, to get the manager, again.

**Sherlock**

I wander through the empty rooms of the flat, looking for any minute details that might give us a clue as to what this Moriarty has in mind.

**John**

I pant just a little bit when I get back up to the flat with the building manager. "Sherlock, this is Ms Bailey. Ms Bailey, this is Sherlock. Now excuse me, I need to get some water."

**Ms Bailey**

"What do you want?'

**Sherlock**

"I'm sure my assistant explained.... we need to locate them men who previously rented this flat."

**Ms. Bailey**

"Assistant? Hmpf. He tried to pretend he was a cop. Just like you're trying to pretend I care bout what you want." I make a point to look at my nails and pretend to clean them. "The info you want don't come free."

**Sherlock**

"Of course, of course. You didn't do so well at Epson Downs last weekend. Perhaps researching the horses more thoroughly would help - picking them based on 'lucky numbers' or jockey 'attributes' isn't a reliable way to do it, you know." I nod.

**Ms. Bailey**

"What's that to ya? You one of Jimmy’s weird people? I don't got time for this." Freaks. That's what they are. The whole lot of them.

**Sherlock**

"Just trying to be helpful. So, 'Jimmy' had friends over a lot, did he? Or just his flatmate?"

**Ms. Bailey**

"You wanna be helpful? Tell me which pony gonna take it next Sunday. Not that I'd believe ya, but might make me 'member a bit."

**Sherlock**

I grab the racing form from her and look it over. "I recommend 'Napoleon's Gold' in the 3rd race. But not more than 20 quid." I hand her the racing form back. "Now, what do you know about your former tenant?"

**Ms. Bailey**

"I know he was better at making me money. Dis so good I didn't even charge him rent. Quiet boy, him and his partner. Good people. Clean. Respectable like. Kinda pretty too." They were nice to have around.

**Sherlock**

"Did they tell you why they wanted to leave? Or maybe, where you could find them?"

**Ms. Bailey**

"Nah. Jimmy just said he needed to go take care of his Grandma. He was good like that. Always doing nice things. Really classed the place up a bit. Gonna miss ol' Jimmy Wolfe and his guy." I'm itching to call my bookie and give him my bet. 40 quid on a long shot should do me nicely. "We done?"

**Sherlock**

“Yes.  Thank you for your help.”  I try not to roll my eyes.

 **Text to Mycroft** I need to find out where James Moriarty's family is from.

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** Give me 20 minutes.

**John**

As we depart the area I have to ask Sherlock something. "Why only 20 quid?"

**Sherlock**

"The woman can ill-afford to lose more than that, John." I reply quietly once we're on the street.

**John**

I burst out laughing. "You lied to her? That's great. Brilliant. She will remember Moriarty as a Saint and you as a right twat." I can't stop chuckling as we stroll down the sidewalk.

**Sherlock**

His laughter is contagious. "Well, based on what people have told me, she wouldn't be wrong, would she?" I hail us a cab back to Baker Street to await my brother's response.


	8. Thursday Morning at a House in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both of us played the role of Mrs. Hudson, as noted in the text.

**Seb**

Jim is still sleeping peacefully when I open my eyes. Do I smell... cooking? I pull on a pair of track pants, and am about the look for a weapon when I suddenly remember - that old woman! Oh, god, she's been here all night... I look back at Jimmy's relaxed expression, a smile just beginning to play on his lips. "Damn you, Jim... you're SO lucky you're cute..." I mumble, and head toward the kitchen.

**Mrs. Hudson (played by MoonShineD)**

Just as the tea is done a nice young man enters the kitchen. "Oh. You must be Jimmy's boyfriend. Aren't you adorable. Tea?"

**Seb**

"Yeah... thanks." I stand by the table. "Wait... what are you doing?"

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Making breakfast." Daft this one is. It's obvious what I'm doing. "How did you sleep, dearie?"

**Seb**

"You're... making breakfast. For Jim? I thought he kidnapped you, not hired you for a housekeeper."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"I'm not your housekeeper!" Pfft. The nerve! "Jamie and I talked. If the poor boy hadn't been so sad about his friend ignoring him he wouldn't have had to resort to bringing me here."

**Seb**

"Jim's not sad about anything. He's angry," I sit at the table carefully as she brings over a cup of tea.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Angry is a form of sad, Seb. Is Seb short for Sebastian? I knew a Sebastian once. Right bastard he was. Not nearly as handsome." I pat his hand when I set the tea down. "Sugar?"

**Seb**

"No, thanks." I watch as she turns to finish cooking. "You cook for Holmes?"

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Sherlock and John would be lost without me." I let out a happysad sigh as I think of my boys. "If it wasn't for my occasional meals all they would ever eat is takeaway and biscuits. But they're busy these days. Between business and becoming -aquainted- with each other... Well, you know what I mean." I shoot him a wink and head back to check the potatoes that are roasting nicely.

**Seb**

I keep my expression blank - with effort. "So they're a couple, hm?"

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Didn't Jimmy tell you? It's what made him so sad. Sherlock is spending all his time with John now. Good thing he has you, honey, and your games."

**Seb**

Oh, God... I swallow a much-too-hot mouthful of tea, giving myself a good excuse for the bright red tinge in my cheeks.

**Mrs. Hudson**

I grab a few veggies from the fridge and start slicing and chopping. "Me and my Frank used to be a bit.... excited in our love making. Those where some good years."

**Seb**

I choke on my tea. "You were married?" I try not to think about the mental picture she just gave me... that sweet little old lady...

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Yes, I was. Poor Frank ended up in prison before he passed away. There was no love lost by the time he was arrested. We hadn't had sex in years by then. Not like you and your Jim. A healthy sex life is important to a good marriage." I can hardly wait til these two get hitched.

**Seb**

"Yeah, um," I run my fingers nervously through my hair. "Ain't lookin' to get married. Not Jim's type of relationship." I shrug.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"I thought you were a smart boy. Of course Jim wants marriage. Love, marriage, family. He needs it." I swear if it wasn't for me none of these boys would be truly happy. "Just talk to him. Right after a good tussle was when I found my Frank to listen the best. He was always a bit more honest after a good spanking." The potatoes done and the veggies ready I start to whisk up some eggs.

**Seb**

I sputter tea again. "Yeah, well, um..." I can't even look at the woman now. "You know, I'm not really that hungry, and I should be getting to work early today..." I start to get up from the table.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Wait. I'll pack you a lunch while you say goodbye to Jimmy." I have my hand on my hip and a Mom look so he doesn't even think of brooking an argument.

**Seb**

"Sure... thanks..." I try to calmly set down my cup and not run from the kitchen. As soon as I'm out of her sight, I nearly sprint to our room, closing the door behind me.

"Jim, darling, you are a madman. And the old woman isn't much better." I say quietly. I can tell he's only pretending to be asleep now. I wonder how much he heard.

**Jim**

I smile at his words. "Don't forget the kiss goodbye."

"You shouldn't lie to old ladies. They'll steal your breath while you sleep." A stretch and yawn and I'm awake.

**Seb**

I throw one of the pillows we knocked onto the floor this morning at him as I head into the bathroom to shower. "Madman," I mumble with a grin.

**Jim**

"An adorable mad man thankyouverymuch!" I follow him to the loo to wash my face and brush my teeth. "I'll haf you know shez an anjl and scawy as fick."

**Seb**

"You two should get along beautifully while I'm at work." I strip down and get into the shower. "Try not to take over a small country before I get home, please."

**Jim**

"Why? I have this one. Think bigger, my love."

**Seb**

I finish scrubbing up in the shower - years in the military make it a quick task by habit - and step out to dry off and dress. "I have to head into the pub today... take care of a couple things. You good with her? Or do I need to send some guys over?" I ask seriously.

**Jim**

I shrug. "Don't know. Don't care." _Don't leave_. "Tell the Mrs I said hi and asked about the kids." I leave him on his own and head to the kitchen. "Martha!"

**Mrs. Hudson (played by StraightShooter)**

"Good morning, dear!" I beam at Jimmy when he walks into the kitchen and gives me a peck on the cheek. "I made some breakfast. Seems your man wasn't hungry, so you'll have to eat some of his, too. Can't have it going to waste..." I set a plate in front of him at the table.

**Jim**

Mwah. Mwah. I air kiss both her cheeks. "Oh he's ALWAYS HUNGRY. ISNT THAT RIGHT, SEB??" I yell down the hall and grin when I hear the click of the bedroom’s door to the outside close.

**Mrs. Hudson**

I see Sebastian as he walks past the kitchen window, and hurry to the back door. I fling it open, one hand on my hip, a lunch bag in the other, and a stern look on my face. "Your lunch, young man. I went to all the trouble to make it... the least you could do is take it with you."

**Seb**

I jump when I hear the kitchen door open, and see a very annoyed Mrs. Hudson standing there, holding out a bag. "Yes, ma'am," I reply quietly, taking the bag from her. "Thank you, ma'am." I nod, turning to walk down driveway to the garage where I parked my motorcycle.

**Jim**

I clap in utter joy when Martha Dear makes Seb go an alarming shade of red. "And here I thought only I could make him turn that color."

**Mrs. Hudson**

I chuckle to myself innocently. "Oh, he was far redder than that when he found me in the kitchen this morning," I smile at him. "Somehow, I think I might have slipped his mind."

**Jim**

I almost spill the tea, left by Seb, that I was drinking when she says that. "It was marvelous, simply marvelous."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Now, eat your breakfast, dear. We have a busy day planned."

**Jim**

"We do?" I lift one eyebrow. "Do tell." I move the food around on my plate and think about how quickly Seb shut down her talk of marriage.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Oh, yes. You'd mentioned needing my help... my expertise, if you will." I nod taking a seat across from him with my cup of tea and a muffin. "Since you've so kindly invited me, the least I could do is offer suggestions."

**Jim**

"I'm open to suggestions. Suggest away." I lift the tea cup over my head to get the last few drops. Refilling it would take too much effort. Seb does the refilling. And the getting. And the making. And the buying.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Well," I reach over as soon as he sets down his cup and pour more tea into it for him. "You can start by talking to poor Sebastian."

**Jim**

"Poor Sebastian... Why is he the poor one." I pick up a muffin and start tearing it apart. "I give him everything. EVERYTHING. But it's not enough. He has to have his stupid bar and his stupid job and his stupid... stupid... He won't even let me buy him a house. Nooooooo. He wants to buy me a house instead. Wants to -earn- it. Bleck. Boring."

**Mrs. Hudson**

I put my hand on his arm. "Dear, let me tell you what I've learned about men. They want to feel needed. They will never admit to liking it when you coddle them," I say sweetly. "You have to let him 'earn his keep' as they say. Or you'll spoil him."

**Jim**

"What's wrong with being spoiled?? He deserves to be spoiled. He needs to be spoiled. I. Want. To. Spoil. Him." I stand up and start pacing around the room muttering to myself as much as to Martha. "He does everything. The shopping, the sniping, the taking care of boring messes. Then he goes off off off into the mundane world and works works works. So boooorrrrring. Instead we could be camping in a cabin in the Alps, diving in the Carribean, toppling governments all over South America, maybe even North America too."

**Seb**

"Maybe he wants to spoil you ," I look at him sternly. "It's bad enough he thinks you're not interested in anything long-term with him..."

**Jim**

My mouth gapes open, shuts closed, goes open again, closed, open. "Cause he's an idiot! I don't know why he thinks that. Just because I said it doesn't mean I meant it. He's too smart to be so dumb." I start rummaging around the cupboards looking for nothing in particular. "Just because I said dead people can't get married to wanted criminals didn't mean I wouldn't come back to life and get him a pardon. If he really wanted it he would've said something."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Some men don't get the subtleties - you have to be very specific and direct with them. And things said... ahem... in the bedroom, don't count. If you love him, tell him. If you don't, let him go. It's really quite simple." I shrug. "I don't know why some people make it so complicated. It took an age for Sherlock and John to get to that point. Even that horrible brother of Sherlock's recognized it before they did."


	9. Thursday Lunch at Baker Street

**Seb**

My buddy over at Two Point called me, as promised, to let me know that an order had been placed to be delivered to 221B Baker Street. I turn the pub over to Jones for the night and head over, so I can do the delivery and maybe have a little chat with Watson... see what they know. Jim will be so pleased with my initiative. I borrow the regular delivery kid's scooter and head over with two bags of food. I ring the bell and wait.

**John**

A buzz at the door tells me dinner has arrived. I open the door to a rough looking gent. It makes me think back to my first meeting with Lock. "Afghanistan or Iraq?" It was the memory that made me blurt that out I suppose.

**Seb**

I chuckle a bit. "Iraq, mostly. You?" I already know the answer, of course - Jimmy told me - but I want to get him comfortable and chatty.

**John**

"Capt John Watson, Ret. Afghanistan." I take a second look at him. He must not have been out long. Still has the Soldier physique, tan forearms, military haircut, and eyes that look like they could stare down a bear. __I didn't just see, I observed__ A bit of pride runs through me.

**Seb**

"Corporal Seb Kalle," I put out my hand to shake his. "Formerly of the 19th Regiment Royal Artillery."

**John**

There's something not quite right about what he says. "Artillery, huh. You looking for a job? I know a couple people at the Yard." Criminals get twitchy when NSY gets brought up.

**Seb**

"Nah, I've got a regular job. Work at a pub most nights. I'm just helping out a friend with deliveries tonight... his regular guy is home sick."

Interesting how he immediately brought up the cops... I wonder what he's thinking...

**John**

I look from him to the bags and back. "Food smells good. Katie still doing the cooking?" It's Kat, not Katie. Thanks to Sherlock calling her Katie constantly we have been relegated to delivery only.

**Seb**

I laugh. "Kat hates that name. I called her that the first time I met her - she set me straight right quick." Holy Hell, the guy is quizzing me... he doesn't trust me at all. Smart guy.

**John**

Finally I put my hand out for the food. "Sorry but what did you say your name was? Kale?"

**Seb**

"KA-lay. Seb KA-lay." I smile as I hand him the bags. "Don't worry, everyone makes that mistake."

**John**

My hand goes to my side, sans food. "Well, Seb... Tell Kat we say hello." Sherlock would've grabbed the food by now and slammed the door in his face. "We, uh, paid online. Do you need to see the card or something?"

**Seb**

"Just a signature on the receipt, and we're good to go, mate." I hand him the receipt and the pen, and he signs it - adding a nice tip - and hands it back. I look around a bit. "You've got a nice place here. Any of the other units available to rent?"

**John**

"Mrs Hudson is the one that would know that." I almost call out for Martha before I catch myself. "She's not here at the moment but will be back soon. In the meantime, you could ask Mrs Turner next door."

**Seb**

"I might. Any idea when Mrs. Hudson will be back? I'd still like to talk to her about here."

**John**

"We're hoping to have her back soon." Sooner the better before she gets hurt or worse. Soon enough Sherlock doesn't waste away from not leaving his Mind Palace.

**Seb**

"Cool. Can you give her my number?" I scribble a number on the back of his receipt and hand it to him. It's a burner phone that I picked up the other day. "Thanks, mate. Great talking to you." I turn and walk back to the scooter, heading back to the restaurant to drop it off.

**John**

"Ta." I quick smile lights up my face as I think of such a big guy on such a small scooter. Upon entering the flat I call out to Sherlock. "Get up, food’s here." His curls are dragging on the ground and his normally beautiful cheekbones are covered in a light scruff that does nothing to hide the pallor of his face.

**Sherlock**

"What? When did I order food?" I sit up with a start.

**John**

"You're alive. I was about to call the pastor for Last Rights." __dear dead gods thank you__ "Or Mycroft."

**Sherlock**

"Calling Mycroft might be useful, actually. He's been no help in this investigation." He hasn't called or texted any more information about James Moriarty or been able to come up with anything that might help us find Mrs. Hudson before it's too late." _Too late_ I shudder. _Damn you brother, if you don't help me..._

**John**

"I miss her too Locky." I plate up the food and bring it over to him. "You need to eat. I won't take no for an answer." I sit on my chair and wait for him to get right side up.

**Sherlock**

"Fine." I swing my feet to the floor and right myself so I can eat. I take a bite of curry, and studiously rearrange the food on my plate.

**John**

"I know what you're doing love. But you need to actually eat." I use a tactic that has worked a few times; sidetrack him into forgetting he's not eating. "There was a new delivery guy today. Former Corporal Seb Kale... Or Kalle... Something like that. Seemed quite old to be discharged recently and only a Corporal."

**Seb**

I stop chewing and swallow my food nearly whole to respond. "New delivery guy? What happened to Andrew? He's been working there for years now."

**John**

"Taking a break I guess. New guy was chatty but didn't say much about Andrew." I shrug and get back to pushing food around my plate.

**Sherlock**

I take another bite of curry, stifling a laugh. "Now you're doing it, John..."

**John**

"Doing what?" I look quite innocent. "You missed a funny sight. A big guy on Andrew’s green Vespa."

**Sherlock**

"I can imagine that was highly entertaining. So you say this man claimed a military background, but it didn't sit right with you. Tell me - what was amiss?"

**John**

"Told you, was a bit old to be discharged and only have made it to Corporal. He still has a soldier’s body." Unlike me. "Something just strikes me as wrong." What is it? I rack my brain trying to figure it out. "He was looking for a flat to rent. Gave me his number even after I told him there's nothing around here available that I know of."

**Sherlock**

"Did he say where he served? Perhaps my brother could prove useful after all..."

**John**

"Iraq. Artillery. With the 19th. Maybe it is worth looking into." I hand him my cell. __dammit he -has- trained me__

**Sherlock**

"Interesting." I start typing on his phone.

 **Text to Mycroft** I need information on the 19th Regiment Royal Artillery. One Corporal Kalle.

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** Dare I ask why?

**Sherlock**

**Text to Mycroft** Just get it.

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** And why are you using John's phone again, brother?

**Sherlock**

I snicker at that last message, and hand the phone back to John.

**John**

I finally give up in the whole eating thing and take our plates to the sink. I come back with the folded piece of paper with his name and number on it and hand it to Sherlock.

 **Text to Mycroft** Because somehow I have been trained to giving it to him even before he commands it. JW

**Mycroft**

**Text to John** Any additional information on Corporal Kalle? I am accessing regimental records now

**John**

**Text to Mycroft** Approx age late 30s to early 40s. Caucasian. Iraq. Discharged possibly recently. Iraq. Employed. -JW

**John**

"I noticed he has a weird scar. Looked like he had a wolf wearing a crown branded into his forearm." Before I get a chance to text that to Mycroft my phone beeps with an incoming picture message. It's a photo of Kalle in fatigues.

 **Text to Mycroft** that's him. A bit older now but that's definitely him. JW

I hand the phone to Sherlock to see.

**Mycroft**

**Text to John** Your instincts are good. He was with the 19th, but not as a corporal. His real name is Sebastian Moran. Colonel Sebastian Moran.

**Sherlock**

**Text to Mycroft** I've always told you Watson was above-average.

I grin at John. "Seems our delivery man wasn't exactly who he said he was - you were right."

 **Text to Mycroft** What can you find out about this Sebastian Moran? More than you found about Moriarty, I hope.

 **Text to John's Phone** Already working on it. Should have information within the hour.

**John**

I'm tempted to respond like he would with of course I was. Instead I flip on the kettle and ask him if he wants a cup.

**Sherlock**

"It seems the man you spoke with was not a former corporal, but a retired colonel. Colonel Sebastian Moran. Ever heard of him?"

**John**

"Rings a bell. Moran. Colonel." A vague memory of my marksmanship certification comes to mind. "Did he have anything to do with Marksmen training?"

**Sherlock**

"It's possible. Mycroft - or more likely, Mycroft's staff - is doing the research now. This does beg the question, though. What is someone of that rank - who likely retired with a quite adequate pension - doing delivering Thai food?"

**John**

"The pension isn't all that good. Maybe for a Colonel but not for a Captain." Why would he say Corporal? Makes no sense. "Maybe he was bored. Maybe he was looking for a change. Maybe he is secretly a spy. Who knows? Soldiers do weird things when they get back to Civilian life."

I feel nowhere near as flippant as my remarks.

**Sherlock**

"A spy for whom?" I fold my hands under my chin and stare at John."Think..."

**John**

"It was meant as a joke. He's not actually a spy. Who, besides your brother, would want to spy on you? No one."

**Sherlock**

"Perhaps someone who has a vested interest in our current investigation?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

 **Text to Mycroft** Find a connection between Moran and Moriarty

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** Patience, brother. We can only work so fast.

**Sherlock**

**Text to Mycroft** The clock is ticking, brother. I'll never forgive you if she comes to harm because of your dawdling.

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** No dawdling. Working at top speed.

**John**

"What do you mean? You think he's working for Moriarty? What would a Colonel and a deranged kidnapper have in common?" Seriously! That's a leap even for him.

I hit my forehead with my hand. "Sherlock... Just because he lied about his rank doesn't mean... Oh. I am an idiot. The brand! Sherlock, the brand! It was a wolf. Remind you of anything?"

**Sherlock**

I jump to my feet. "Of course! The note... the story!" I cry out. "Well done, John! You'll learn this yet!"

**John**

"Ta. Your confidence is astounding." He nods as if he didn't hear the sarcasm in my voice. "I'm not an idiot you know. I do have an MD." And a psychosomatic limp every now and again.

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** Odd. All records for Colonel Moran seem to indicate he is deceased.

**Sherlock**

I look at the message, then at John, somewhat confused. "What was the name he gave you again?"

**John**

"Seb Kale. Or KaLay. Does it matter?"

**Sherlock**

I call Mycroft, rather than text. As soon as he answers, I begin to speak. "Look for records relating to a Sebastian Kalay." A pause. "No, I don't know how to spell it, but I'm suspecting it's a derivative of Charles." Another pause. "Fine. Send me the information as soon as you can."

**John**

"Charles? How does kaylay make Charles? Why Charles instead of Wolfe? I think you might be wrong this time."

**Sherlock**

I sigh heavily. "The original story Red Riding Hood was written by Charles Perrault in the 17th century. Now, given how you described our Sebastian as blond-haired and blue-eyed, one would typically think him more of Scandinavian origin, yes?" I wait a moment for John's attention. "The Swedish translation of Charles is Kalle, pronounced KAH-le, much as you say he pronounced it."

**John**

I look down sheepishly. ' Ah, yeah, that makes sense." Why do I even question him any more. "You are brilliant." A flush, this time of pride, goes through me.

**Sherlock**

I stare at my phone impatiently until a text from my brother arrives. I jump up off the sofa, striding quickly to grab my coat. "Come, John - we have a wolf to catch."

"My brother is sending a car."


	10. Thursday Afternoon at a House in the Woods

**Seb**

I park my motorcycle in the garage, hanging my helmet on it, and walk into the house, to find Jim lounging on the sofa (as usual) and Martha humming happily in the kitchen. I shake my head as I hang up my coat. "Hey, babe. Good day?"

**Jim**

"Honey! You're home!" I stand on the seat of the couch and jump into his arms. "I destroyed a small country today. What did you do?"

**Seb**

I laugh and kiss him on the cheek before squeezing him and setting him back on the floor. "Oh, just work. Did a little detective work for you," I grin.

**Jim**

My eyes light up. "Do tell." I go back to the couch and sit with my legs crossed under me. "Tellmetellmetellme."

**Seb**

"Well," I take a seat on the couch next to him and pull him onto my lap. "My mate Simon called - seems Watson ordered lunch delivery. Andy was still a bit hungover, so he didn't argue with me when I offered to delivery for him."

**Jim**

"You went to Baker Street?" I stand up and pace. "You. Went. To. Baker. Street!"

**Seb**

Pfft. "Yeah, I went to Baker Street. It's not like they know who I am. No risk.  I'll tell you, Watson looked like he hadn't slept in a week. They must really be worried about her," I nod toward the kitchen.

**Jim**

I run my hand over my face and sit down on the other side of the couch with my feet on his lap. "Tell me everything." I wiggle my toes til he starts running them.

**Seb**

"Watson pegged me right away for former military, of course. Asked if I'd served in Iraq." I rub his calves when I feel him tense up at that. "Didn't give him my real name, of course. Just friendly conversation."

**Jim**

"Ugh. 10 points from Griffyndor. Would be more if you weren't such a good masseur. Despite Sherlock's belief, Watson is not an idiot. What else did he peg you for? What name did you use?"

**Seb**

"Kalle, like always." I stroke his feet softly, making his toes flex. "Not like he'd find anything on that... Seb Kalle didn't exist 6 months ago."

**Jim**

Mmmm. "You didn't do anything to give away our position?" I open one eye and squint at him.

**Seb**

"NoPe," I say it just like him. "I asked about renting a flat in the building, and he said Mrs. H was 'out', but that's all."

**Jim**

I yell out to our guest. "Hey, Martha, your boys say you've gone on vacation!"

**Seb**

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Don't be silly, Jimmy," I scold from the kitchen. "They know full well I'm not on holiday. I would have told them."

**Jim**

I wink at Seb. "NoPe. Sebby talked to them. Seemed they think you went visiting or something. Even took Seb’s info if they decide to rent out your flat." I look from her to Sebby. "Isn't that right? They took your name and number after you mentions wanting to let a room."

**Seb**

"Yeah, they did. Also told me to check with Mrs. Turner, in case you weren't around to ask soon." I lower my voice so only Jim can hear. "Not my regular phone, you git - the burner."

**Jim**

I roll my eyes in a duh motion. "I know that." Pfft. "Did you hear that Martha? So sad, too bad. You could always stay here. -I- would keep track of you and you can go on all the real holidays you want to."

**Mrs. Hudson**

I giggle. "No, I rather like my own flat, thank you. I'm sure the boys will be here by dinner time." I put the roast in the oven and wash my hands.

**Jim**

"Yeah yeah yeah. Unless you plan on an early dinner it won't matter. They only have," I pretend to look at a watch I don't wear, "about three hours left."

**Mrs. Hudson**

I walk into the living room and give him a stern look. "According to our little wager, they have until about 6:30 this evening, dearie."

**Jim**

"Uh. No, they don't. We agreed on 48 hours. I aquired you at 4:04pm. That gives them 2 hours and 46 minutes." How dare she try to cheat me? Me??

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Well, that hardly seems right. Didn't I say they would come for me within 48 hours? I didn't say that at 4:04pm, dearie... I said it after dinner. 6:30pm.

**Jim**

I stand and walk over to her. "We made the bet at 6:24pm but I removed you from Baker at 4:04pm. That means they have til 4:04."

**Mrs. Hudson**

I look him right in the eye. "6:30." I say sternly, my hands on my hips. "Or do you really need to cheat to win?"

**Jim**

"How. Dare. You!" My hands are fists by my side. "SEB! Talk some sense into this lady."

**Seb**

"I dunno, babe... she's making sense to me." I shrug. The glare I get in return makes me glad he's not sitting on the sofa with me right now.

**Mrs. Hudson**

I beam at Sebastian.

**Jim**

"I hate you!! Both of you!!" I storm down the hallway. "No more points for Hufflepuff ever again. Eeeeever!" With a slam of the door I finish this ridiculous pointless conversation. 4:04 and not a minute after.

**Mrs. Hudson**

I walk over and pat Sebastian on the shoulder. "He's only upset because we're right, you know. He'll cool off."


	11. Thursday Evening at a House in the Woods

**John**

"Where are we going?" Seems nice out here, peaceful. The kind of place I can see us retiring to when all is done. I picture bee colonies, a dog or two, patio for mid-day tea. I sigh, that will never happen. Too domestic for Mr Married to My Work

**Sherlock**

I look up from my phone, surprised by his question. "I told you. Moran purchased a cottage in Sussex two months ago. Rural... isolated... the perfect place to hide a kidnap victim."

**John**

"Why is it always Sussex? Does anyone besides criminals retire here? Be nice to meet some normal people who own property out here." I enjoy the scenery as the driver navigates the road. "Maybe a quaint little B and B after we get Mrs Hudson back."

**Sherlock**

"Please, John. I'm sure she will want to get home as soon as possible. Even she would be rattled by such events." I shake my head.

**John**

"I wasn't talking about her, or right after we get her back. I was talking about..." It's no use. He's already on his phone again, wait that's my phone. "So, what's the connection between Kale and The Wolf?"

**Sherlock**

I look up at John blankly. He rolls his eyes and repeats the question. "Oh. Moriarty is a criminal mastermind, you know - nearly as intelligent as I am, I believe. He would easily be able to afford someone like Moran to do his dirty work. I had Mycroft sort through some rather complicated funds transfers after Moran's death... they lead right to Moriarty's various business enterprises." I shrug. "Rather simple, really. I was disappointed."

**John**

"Yeah. Sounds simple enough. Straight forward and such." I nod along with his explanation. "You really ought to thank your brother sometime for all the help he gives you." It takes about a heartbeat before we both start laughing. "Don't fret my love. I know if you didn't tell him where to look he would still be searching the Queen's attic."

**Sherlock**

"I sometimes wonder if he is really my flesh and blood, and not just some foundling my parents took in." I grin at John and squeeze his hand. "We should arrive shortly. I've asked the driver to stop a block or so away - no sense in announcing our presence before we're ready."

**John**

"If your parents adopted a fey child it would've been you, not him." Maybe that's his secret? He's half fey and half ... No. He's Sherlock. That's it. That's all. That's more than enough. "We should take the place from the back. Let me scope it out before you run in half-cocked and get your head blown off. I've grown quite used to it."

**Sherlock**

The car pulls up silently just up the street from the address Mycroft sent me. "After you, then..." I nod to John as the driver opens the door. "Did you bring it?"

**John**

"Is the Pope Catholic??" Really. Sometimes I wonder how much of an idiot I am. I pull out the gun and show it to him. "Locked and loaded."

**Sherlock**

I chuckle quietly. "Of course. How foolish of me." I follow him out of the car. "Do refrain from shooting anyone unless it's urgently required, though." We walk up the road along the hedges until we reach the house. The sun is setting, and it appears the only lights on are downstairs - that might make it more of a challenge to be unobserved. "Where shall we start?"

**John**

I look at what I can see of the house. "Round back, should be a door. I'll avoid any windows. Stay right here." I crouch down and start making my way behind the surreally domestic-looking cottage. There's even smoke coming from the chimney.

**Mrs. Hudson**

I'm humming happily in the kitchen, peeking at the clock now and again. _Not quite 6_ , I smile to myself. Still plenty of time.

**Sherlock**

I watch impatiently as John sneaks toward the back. As soon as he is out of sight, I take off after him quietly.

**Jim**

I keep glancing at the clock right along with Martha. "Dear Martha. Martha Martha Martha. They're not gonna show. Even -if- he does he's already laaatee."

**John**

ForFuckSakeGodDamnItImGoingToKILLHim. Sherlock passes me and skedadles over to the kitchen door. I make hand motions to move. When that doesn't work I whisper, "move." If he doesn't get us killed I will kill him myself. Kill him dead. I swear.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"I told you, Jimmy dear, not late. The clock started when we placed the bet, remember?" I reach over and pinch his cheek with a grandmotherly smile.

**Seb**

I stifle a laugh at the look on Jim's face right now... being bested by a little old lady... He glares at me and I quickly turn away, to keep from laughing out loud.

**Sherlock**

John tells me to move, so I do. Unfortunately, I manage to back into one of the bins outside the kitchen. I freeze as the sound of metal against the brick wall tears through the air.

**John**

... and this is how we died...

**Jim**

Seb jumps up and has his gun drawn on the figure laying outside the kitchen door before I've even stood. I look around him and see: -- Sherlock with his arse in the rubbish bin, -- Watson with his gun carefully trained on Seb, -- Martha still happily humming away as she puts the roast, the final piece of dinner, on the table, -- and me. "Maaaarrrrtha. Dearie. You have visitors." I shrug and kiss Sebby on the cheek for being such a good protector. "I'll reward you later."

**John**

What the... Sherlock is doing his best to get out of the trash. My first instinct is to shoot the guy with the gun (Seb Kale) but he went inside. I know I should help Sherlock but I'm still upset so I go past him into the door that opens to the kitchen to see Martha standing there at the head of a table set for five.

**Mrs. Hudson**

Setting the roast down, I smile sweetly at Jim. "I told you they would be here." I walk up to Seb and lower his gun (much to his surprise).

**Seb**

The old lady grabs my wrist and pulls my arm down, taking my sight off Dr. Watson. I look at her, mouth agape. "What are you doing?!?" I say, exasperated.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Tsk! No need for all that silliness. John, put that away and help Sherlock out of the bins. Dinner is ready!" I drag Sebastian back inside by the wrist.

**John**

"NoPe. He got himself into that mess he can get himself out." I return the Sig to its spot behind my back. Seb sets his, one of the three I know he has on him, on the table. I roll my eyes and cross my arms.

**Jim**

Ohhhh My Gawd!! "This is too funny. Ha. If I knew it would be this fun I would've done it ages ago." I sit down and pat the seat to my right so Seb sits as well. Outside I hear cursing followed by a baritone howl of 'Jaaaaaawwwwwn!"

**Mrs. Hudson**

I smack Seb on the backside, and nod toward Jim. "Go get washed up for dinner, you two. John, Sherlock - you, too. Get inside this instant." I scold.

**Seb**

I look at Jim, who looks as confused as I am - then look back at Mrs. Hudson's stern glare. I shrug, and head down the hall as instructed. _Worse than my grandmother, that woman..._

**Jim**

I shrug. Seb shrugs. We get up and go wash our hands. "I think she's worse than the Nun back in boarding school."

**John**

Having taken at least three pictures on my cell phone I finally help Lock out if the rubbish bin. "Serves you right. Trying to get us killed, again. Good think you're so brilliant otherwise."

**Mrs. Hudson**

In a lower voice, I speak to John and Sherlock. "It's about time you two showed up!" I scold playfully. "Now get in here, wash up here in the kitchen and sit down for dinner."

**John**

"Sir, Yessir." I give a mock salute and head to the sink.

**Sherlock**

I finally manage to haul myself out of the bin - no thanks to John, who just stood there taking pictures... probably sent them to Mycroft, damn him. I rush up to Mrs. Hudson, grabbing her gently by the shoulders. "Are you all right? Have they hurt you?" I look over her for injury.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"I'm fine, really... I'm fine. Jimmy and Seb are really delightful boys. Jimmy was just feeling a bit... well, left out." I lead Sherlock inside and close the door.

**Sherlock**

"Left out? What do you mean?"

**Mrs. Hudson**

"He gets bored, too, you know. And since you've been spending so much time with John now, he hasn't seen you as often." My voice lowers to a whisper. "He won't admit it, but I think he might be a little jealous."

**Sherlock**

"Wha- jealous? Really?" My eyes are glittering with amusement when Jim and Seb walk back into the kitchen and take a seat at the table.

**Jim**

I can see the way Martha and Sherlock are looking at each other like old hens in the roost. "Secrets are bad and sharing is caring. What are you two talking about?"

**John**

I take another look at Kale, err Moran. "Why a Corporal? Really?"

**Sherlock**

I pull out a chair for Mrs. Hudson, and take the seat next to her, right across from Jim. John takes his seat next to me, and Seb next to Jim. We all glare at each other for a moment, until Mrs. Hudson breaks the silence.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Now boys, stop that." I snap. All eyes turn to me. "We're going to have a nice, peaceful dinner. Then John, Sherlock and I are going to head back to Baker Street and get things ready so that you two" nodding at Jimmy and Sebastian "can get moved into 221C by the end of the week."

**John**

"What??"

**Jim**

I shake my head and wag my finger. "no no no no no noooooo. Not how that works. They will head back to Baker but to go get your stuff because you're moving in here." I squint at Seb sending him the mental thought that he better back me up or he will see the back side of a couch for a month. Minimum.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"Jimmy, we discussed this. You agreed that if they got here within 48 hours, you would win. We made that wager at 6:30pm, two nights ago. They arrived at 6pm - 30 minutes to spare."  
  
**Sherlock**

I am stunned into silence. _Jim Moriarty, criminal mastermind... moving into Baker Street? My neighbor?_ I can almost feel the windows of my Mind Palace rattling, like a train has run too close to it.  
**Seb**

I avoid Jim's glare. "Pass the potatoes, please." I mumble.

**Jim**

"Tsk tsk tsk tsk. Cheating makes no body a winner." I glare at a certain ex-Soldier who will be sleeping on his own for the next long while. "We agreed on 48 hours from the moment I relieved you from your premises. That was at exactly 4:04pm. Just ask Sherlock here, he'll tell you that the CCTV MyCraft sent was time stamped 4:04"

**John**

"Sorry, must've misheard. Bet? What bet? What about Baker Street? No. No. No. No. Absolutely not. No." I toss my napkin down and cross my arms. "No."

**Mrs. Hudson**

"I do not cheat, young man." I stare at him sternly. "Sherlock, when someone says something will happen 'within 48 hours', doesn't that imply the starting time is right then? I'd already been here nearly 3 hours by the time this conversation happened, after all..."

**Sherlock**

I stare blankly at Mrs. Hudson, then Jim, then John, then Seb, and back. "I'm sorry, what about a wager? What is this nonsense about Moriarty moving into Baker Street with us?"

**Mrs. Hudson**

I give Sherlock a playful shove on the shoulder. "Do pay attention dear. Jimmy here picked me up just after 4pm. We discussed a small wager on when you and John would come to 'rescue' me at 6:30pm. Jim said, and I quote, 'If they are here within the next 48 hours, you win.'" I sit back in my chair, arms crossed. "I believe I won."

**Sherlock**

"Well, if that is what he said, then barring a specific statement of a starting time, I have to agree with you, Mrs. Hudson. You won the wager. Now what is this about you moving into Baker Street?" I glare at Jim.

**Jim**

"No. I did not. I said if they're here in 48 hours. Not in the next 48 hours." I put both hands on the table loudly. "Tell her why she's wrong Seb."

**John**

"He's right Mrs Hudson." I shrug and go back to eating like Moran is across from me.

**Seb**

"Well, I wasn't here, Jim, so I can't say exactly what you said." I shrug, taking my cue from John and focusing on the food on my plate.

**Sherlock**

"Moriarty cannot move into Baker Street." I say matter-of-factly, glaring at him some more.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"You most certainly did say 'next 48 hours' Jimmy."

**Seb**

"Sounds like a case of he-said, she-said to me. Maybe you two should just call it a draw." I move quickly, narrowly missing an elbow in my ribcage.

**Jim**

"No. This is not ok. I won fair and square." Martha smacks my hand so I sit back down. I glare at Sebastian for his mutinous behaviour. I mouth the words "you're dead" but the bastard only shrugs.

**John**

I look around the table at the gathered company. "Has anyone considered calling it a draw and finding the middle ground? For example, they can stay at Baker Street a few nights but still live here." Martha beams. Moran shrugs, again. Jim and Sherlock have equally violent looks. Seems they finally found something to agree on, my demise. Least I will end life on a full stomach.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"That sounds like a perfectly good compromise, John. What do you think, Sherlock? Jim? Will you two behave long enough to do that?"

**Sherlock**

I snarl darkly, but agree to John's insane plan. "Fine. But stay out of my laboratory, Moriarty.

**Jim**

"Yeah. Yeah. Whatever." I stare at Lock with barely leashed ire. "As long as you stay out of my unit AND I get as many biscuits as you."

**Seb**

I look carefully at John. _We're in for a wild ride, Captain._  
  
**Mrs. Hudson**

I clap my hands in glee. "Excellent. So, finish up your dinner. I made dessert, but you don't get any if you don't clean your plates."

**John**

I share a look with Colonel Moran. __oh bloody fuck__  
  
**Jim**

 __la la LA LA la__ I wuh-uhn.

**Mrs. Hudson**

I look at each of the boys in turn as Sherlock and Jimmy pick at their meals, and John and Sebastian studiously ignore them. I sit back and smile. It's just like having my own happy little family, without Frank there to mess things up.

**Sherlock**

I shift the food around on my plate, expertly making it look as though I've eaten. Since John wasn't inclined to lecture me about not eating properly, it seems I'm going to get away with it until I notice Mrs. Hudson scowling at me. I shove a forkful of potato in my mouth grumpily.

**John**

Moran startles me when he tries to make small talk. It takes a moment for me to respond. "I wouldn't know. I haven't slept on the couch in C before. You should ask Sherlock." I happen to glance at Moriarty as a piece of potato flies off his plate and hits Mrs. Hudson's tea and spills all over Lock's lap.

**Jim**

Seb and John both start talking when the tea topples over. "Oops?" It's obvious Sherlock won't believe it was an accident.

**Sherlock**

I glare at Moriarty sharply as I jump up, minimizing the amount of hot tea that spills onto my lap. "You did that on purpose..." I snarl at him. I start to reach across the table for a buttered roll. I am about to fling it at Moriarty's forehead when Mrs. Hudson's shrill voice makes me drop it.

**Mrs. Hudson**

"SHERLOCK! JAMES! STOP THAT!" I jump up from the table I can't remember the last time I had to raise my voice to anyone, let alone one of my boys. "You are grown men, for God's sake." I roll my eyes.

**Jim**

"But, Martha... It was an accident. Ask them." I wave to Seb and Watson to come to my defense

**John**

I pat my mouth with my napkin before I stand up with my drink. "Lovely dinner. Thank you. Believe I'll go get the car now."

**Seb**

"Good plan, Watson. Let me help." I quickly get up from the table and follow him out, letting Jim and Sherlock hash out whatever details they need.

**Jim**

"Couch! Forever! Moran!" Ugh. It's so hard to get good pets now days. "Least it was your fishy who ran away first."


	12. Epilogue

_Sherlock and Jim seem to have reached a truce, and Jim and Seb spend every holiday in 221C, so Martha can enjoy the company of all her boys._

_The following February... Valentine's Day_

"I'm going to burn your heart out!" Jim yells to Sherlock over Martha's head as her, Sebastian, and myself share tea and biscuits.

"You wouldn't." Sherlock glares as he folds his arms.

"Try me." Jim squints his eyes and grabs a match from on top of Mrs. Hudson's fireplace.

The three of us follow normal procedure and remove ourselves to unit B until the storm that is Sherlock and Moriarty moves on.

"I told you making Valentine's for Mrs Hudson was a bad idea." Seb shakes his head but a slight grin is visible.

Up ahead, Martha hums to herself and she carries the tray up the stairs. "How sweet of the boys to both make me hearts. I thought they were both quite... nice, in their own way."  
  



End file.
